Forest Of Lies
by Lord Zeuss
Summary: Sequel to A Den Of Hate. When Kono and company land on Kashyyyk the monopolistic Czerka impound the Ebon Hawk. They must plan for a coup with no allies and find the Star Map with no assurance that it even still exists.
1. Complications

"What have you done to Juhani?"

"I have done nothing to Juhani."

"I am not blind, Kono. It is obvious to me that something happened to you while you were on Korriban. Something happened to both of you. I want to know what it was."

"Bastila, did you expect our mission on Korriban to be easy or without complications? The Star Map was located in one of the ancient Sith Tombs in the Valley of the Dark Lords. The Sith guard those tombs fiercely. The only viable option was to get accepted into the Academy. I needn't remind you that the only thing Sith respect is power. Drastic measures had to be taken to accomplish our goals."

"Drastic measures? Kono, the Dark Side has taken hold on you! I can sense it from both you and Juhani!"

"What would you expect? We spent nearly a week in that den of hate, surrounded by Sith of all colors, and waded through the tombs of the Sith of old. Were you so naïve as to think it would not affect us in some way?"

"As Jedi we must be on constant guard against the Dark Side's influence. It can be so subtle in its control that you do not even know it's there. Gradually it takes you over and turns you into an abomination, a mockery of everything you once stood for. Look at Revan and Malak, look at Saul Karath; once true champions of justice, now despicable warriors of evil."

"Bastila, did you arrive at any of those conclusions based on facts that you have witnessed first hand?"

"Well, I--"

"Are they based on anything besides the words of the Jedi Masters?"

"Don't change the subject, Kono."

"I'm not changing the subject, this _is_ the subject. Everything you know about the Force, about the Dark Side, has come from the Jedi Masters. The Masters who were not out in the heart of the Sith threat, who instead sat in their chambers while Juhani and I risked our lives and more to find the Star Map. Wise or not, the Jedi Masters are not all-knowing, nor do they fully appreciate our situation. If they did, this war with the Sith would have never happened; the Mandalorians would have been defeated long before Revan and Malak vanished into the unknown."

"How can you say such things?"

"Simple examination of observable facts. But my point is we have to base our conclusions about the way things are on things we ourselves have seen and not on anything we are told. It doesn't matter how wise our instructors are, we must make our own observations and have our own experiences. This is the only way we learn."

"I don't understand what this has to do with the Dark Side."

"The Dark Side is a perspective, a point-of-view that has been indoctrinated into you by your training, as it has been to countless Jedi down through the ages. But you do not truly know its nature; you have only been told of it. And perhaps even those instructors who taught you of it did not know anything besides what _they_ had been told. You believe the Dark Side to be a viewable in black-and-white terms, but this is not the way reality works. For example: If a man kills another, at first glance the situation is very simple: that man has done evil and must be punished. However, if you care to examine more closely, you may discover that there are extenuating circumstances justifying the man's action. In such a case, what had appeared to be an act of evil can, in fact, be not only acceptable, but completely necessary."

"Kono, this is not the nature of the Dark Side."

"You are no more qualified to judge what is the nature of the Dark Side than any of those who came before you who knew nothing of it. The Dark Side is subjective, evil rests with the individual. Place the blame on the murderer, not the murder weapon."

"How can you so easily justify yourself in the face of the things you've done?"

"Because we are engaged in a struggle for survival. If we cannot allow ourselves to do what must be done to ensure our own survival, then we might as well lay down our arms and let the Sith destroy us unopposed. By shackling ourselves with mercy for those who wish to steal our lives we are allowing the enemy to win without a fight. We must do what we must to survive."

"But what is the point of survival if in so doing we become the very thing we oppose?"

"We do not. We fight to protect ourselves. The Sith are not fighting to live their lives, they are fighting to end ours. That gives us the responsibility to protect our lives with whatever means are required."

"I can see you will not be swayed from your conviction, Kono. I'll not press this any further for now. But I expect you to allow me to watch you when we get to Kashyyyk. There may have been valid reasons for me to stay behind at Korriban but none exist in this case. It is my duty to watch and to guide you, and I must carry out this duty to the best of my ability."

"Very well, Bastila. If you feel you must, then so be it."

* * *

"This is unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't make the rules. Your ship was unscheduled, it has to be impounded for the time being until things can be sorted out at the Czerka Dock Offices or Headquarters. The dock has been targeted by a focused disruptor beam that will render the ship's engines inoperable until it is deactivated by members of Czerka Air Traffic Control, so your it's not going anywhere. There's nothing I can do but point you in the right direction."

Kono cursed inwardly. If his experiences on Tatooine had given him the feeling that he disliked Czerka Corp, Kashyyyk was giving him the impression that he despised them. Worse still, he knew it would be pointless to get angry at the dock officer in front of him; killing the messenger wouldn't solve his problems and regardless there were no Sith he needed to impress. Instead, he inquired for directions to the main Czerka offices, which the dock officer was happy to provide.

A small crowd, Kono and his companions left the docks. He brought everyone for two reasons; unlike Korriban, he had no idea where to start looking for a Star Map on the forest world and would need everyone's help; also, Czerka had just impounded his vessel, making it inconvenient for anyone to remain on board. Kono walked in front, flanked by Juhani and followed closely by Bastila. Carth trudged alongside him, in front of the two droids. Mission and Zaalbar followed the droids, and Canderous brought up the rear. They were all armed and people on the platform-streets made way for them as they passed, not wanting to get in trouble.

The forest was beautiful; towering Wroshyyr trees the width of buses reaching up for miles, the canopy casting green light on the platform cities that dotted the midlayer. Kono did not let himself be distracted by his surroundings, no matter how exquisite they were. He had work to do, questions that needed answering.

Foremost on his mind was the Star Map, but there were other matters that nagged at him as well. Such as the absence of Wookiees.

"Zaalbar, a word please?" He called to his Wookiee companion.

"_Yes, what is it, Kono?_" Zaalbar answered.

"I need to know just what it was that made you forsake your homeworld. Why did you leave?" Kono asked.

Zaalbar indicated the people passing them by angrily. "_This, all of this, is my fault! Czerka have enslaved my people and turned my home into an amusement for outsiders because of me!_"

"Slow down, Zaalbar. Start from the beginning. Tell me exactly what happened."

With a mournful sigh, Zaalbar explained. "_My brother Chuundar was making secret deals with outsiders. Our father was Chieftain, and when I found out what Chuundar was doing I tried to tell him. But he believed Chuundar instead and disregarded my concerns. This made Chuundar bolder, and he __began to gather followers. Soon, he was able to challenge Father for leadership of the Wookiee clans. He succeeded, and soon the Czerka people started to land on our home like flies on a carcass. Father and I were furious, Father more than I because he had believed Chuundar's lies. I do not know what happened between the two of them, all I know is shortly after Father confronted Chuundar he was banished to the Shadowlands. As more and more of the Czerka people came and started taking us as slaves, I left. I was afraid of what Chuundar might decide to do with me, and I knew that it was ultimately my fault that things had gotten as bad as they did._"

"So your brother Chuundar sold you out to Czerka slavers? What did the rest of your people think of it?"

"_He made sure that all the blame fell on Father's and my shoulders. He told them lies of every imaginable sort. No one believed him but he had powerful friends and many of the warriors were on his side, the High Guard mainly. No one even thought about resisting. I don't know what he has been telling our people all this time, but I imagine it continues to shift the blame from himself. Perhaps he is right, maybe Father and I really are the ones to blame._"

"Zaalbar, if you think you are to blame for the actions of others then you will most surely fail," Kono reprimanded. "Perhaps there was more you could have done, but you are not to blame for Chuundar's treachery. Certainly there were consequences for your inaction, but you will have an opportunity to make up for that mistake, I promise you."

"_I hope so, Kono,_" Zaalbar responded, doubtfully.

The Czerka Dock Offices, a complex built into a hollowed-out section of Wroshyyr, was in sight. Kono halted.

"So do you have a plan yet?" Bastila asked.

Kono turned to face his party.

"We need a place to start. Czerka probably has records of their exploration somewhere. We need to find those and start digging through them, looking for any sign or trace of anything that might be useful. Bastila, Juhani, and Carth, you're with me. We're going to take T3 and find these records." He singled out Mission. "Mission, I need you to try to tap into whatever sort of black market they've got going on around here. There's got to be some illegit trade happening and its possible that someone might know something about the Star Map. Canderous and HK-47 will go with you."

"Objection: Master, you do not expect me to follow around this diminutive Twi'lek meatbag!" HK-47 protested.

Mission bristled. "Hey!"

"No, HK, I do. In fact, I want you to protect her if things happen to go bad," Kono admonished.

"Resignation: Very well, Master."

"Canderous, between you and Mission I know you can get into whatever kind of illegal trade they have going on here. Use any means necessary, I need to know what things are like beneath the surface of the shiny corporate utopia Czerka pulls over everyone's eyes," he instructed. "Mission, do you think you and Canderous can handle this?"

"Sure thing, Kono!" Mission replied, enthusiastically.

"_What do you wish me to do?_" Zaalbar inquired.

Zaalbar was a problem. Preoccupied with his own issues the Wookiee could be a liability. There was really only one thing he could task him with.

"Do you think the Wookiees would cast aside Chuundar's rule if given another option?" Kono asked.

"_It would take a great deal to break their fear of Chuundar,_" Zaalbar answered.

"Well, I was thinking 'revolution'. Would that be sufficient?"

Zaalbar was startled. "_Y--yes, I believe it would._"

"I'm going to need you to pass along that promise of freedom to those who would resist."

"_How can you possibly promise them that?_"

Kono smiled. It was a frightening and oddly comforting smile. "Toppling governments is an old habit of mine."

* * *

"Can I help you?" The officer behind the desk asked.

Kono launched into his act, tapping into the officer's mind with a slight trickle of Force persuasion to go along with his lies.

"Yes, I believe you can. I have a friend here who works at the archives and she asked me to meet her at work. It wasn't until after I'd agreed that I realized I have no idea where the archives are."

"I presume you mean the Edean Colonial Archives?"

"Excuse me? Edean? My star chart listed this planet as Kashyyyk."

"Yes, well, that is what the locals call it. Edean was chosen as the name for the colony by popular consent among the Czerka beneficiaries."

"I see."

"The Colonial Archives are located at the east side of the port, past the tourist center, next to the warehouse."

"Thank you."

Kono stepped away from the officer's desk and rejoined his companions outside, heading for the east side of the Czerka port. When they reached the archives building, a pair of security guards stopped them.

"Let's see some authorization," they demanded.

Kono slid his sword halfway from its scabbard, startling the two men. His voice was at a deadly level tone when he spoke. "Jedi, on a mission concerning galactic security. I am going to enter if it has to be over your corpses." The look in his eyes alone caused the two guards to back off a few steps.

"Go ahead. They don't pay us to be heroes."

"Good."

He brushed past the security guards followed by a disapproving Bastila and the rest of his party. Entering the archive chambers - no more than a decently-sized room filled with looted texts and a computer mainframe in one corner - he shouted at the various technicians and archivists to get out. Everyone scattered to the four winds when they heard his voice and saw his face.

Kono was showing them no mercy; they had become his enemy. The game had begun.

Paying no heed to Bastila's critical glower, he turned to T3-M4. "T3, run a search-and-process program on the mainframe for anything about Builders, the Infinite Empire, Star Maps, Star Forge, or anything on unidentified artifacts." T3 beeped in acknowledgment. He turned next to Juhani.

"Can you read Sheriwook?" He asked.

"Yes, a little," Juhani answered.

"Good. You and I will search the scrolls. Bastila and Carth," Kono looked at the two of them, "I want you to look through whatever records Czerka might have come across from previous settlers; anything not in Sheriwook or on the mainframe."

"Kono, we need to talk," Bastila interjected.

"Fine, then talk. But please do as I say. Finding this particular Star Map could potentially take a very long time and I'd like to get started," he responded, already starting to poke into the stacks of old texts, examining and disregarding anything not of interest and setting aside others for consideration.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" Bastila asked in an accusatory tone.

"I am searching for the Star Map, as commissioned by the Jedi Council," he answered, deadpan.

"Kono, you are not behaving as a Jedi should. We Jedi do not threaten innocent bystanders merely because we are frustrated at a turn of events. This is everything the Jedi Code warns us against, and you are breaking it time and time again."

"I have to agree with Bastila on this one," Carth added gruffly as he sifted through manifests.

Kono regarded them both. He responded coolly. "Who wrote the Jedi Code that I should obey them? By whom was it written 'there is no passion, there is peace'? The world does work that way, and I will not be blinded to reality by the fanciful words of fallible fools who refused to open their eyes to the truth."

Bastila was incensed. "How dare you speak of the Masters so!"

"I have simply faced the fact that the Jedi Code was laid down by imperfect mortals; it contradicts reality. True knowledge and reasoned thought are the only things we can allow to guide us," Kono expounded.

"And how is misuse of the Force and open hostility justified by reasoned thought?" She challenged.

"First of all, 'misuse' is a subjective term. It is what you believe to be a wrongful application of the Force. The inherent problem is that you do not think my thoughts and cannot understand my purpose."

"I'm listening, explain it to me."

"Czerka Corporation have enslaved this world, you've seen the evidence of it yourself. More than that, they now have confiscated our ship; the only way we have of getting off Kashyyyk and finding the other Maps. This means that not only are they actively engaging in that which you admit is evil, but they are also obstructing our mission. That makes Czerka, and anyone who consciously chooses to be a part of them, an enemy. Enemies are not defeated by half-measures, you must fight them or you will fall."

Bastila fell silent, assimilating his words, unable to voice further objection.

As they went back to searching, Carth spoke up. "Kono, when you said earlier that toppling governments is a habit, what did you mean?"

Kono shrugged. "Special Forces, Carth. Operation: BLUE SHARD; we instigated a slave rebellion on a Hutt-controlled world. A lot of people died, but millions more would have if we hadn't done what we did."

"How's that?"

"The Hutts there were funding anti-Republic, anarchist terrorists. After the coup the terrorists were exposed and executed, foiling a major attack on Alderaan. It was a messy business, and a lot of high-ranking Republic officials and politicians thought it was a colossal waste of life. But they didn't understand the realities of what was really going on, they couldn't. That's why it was classified and buried; they thought it made the Republic look bad. But the truth was it was done for survival."

"Was that the only time?"

"No. But I doubt you'd even want to hear about the others. A lot more innocent people died and hardly anything came of it, but it always had to be done. The consequences of inaction were too great to risk."

There was again silence as everyone fell back to their tasks. No one talked, the only sounds were of rustling papers, sporadic beeping from T3, and the shuffle of books being moved.

Hours passed. Carth and Bastila came up with a couple of documents pertaining to ancient artifacts, and Juhani found an old Wookiee exploration log. But closer examination revealed nothing of further value until Kono and Juhani uncovered a volume written in Basic buried in Wookiee texts. On the cover was written _Conversations with Icon_. Inside, Kono found numerous references to the enigmatic Builders.

"T3, search the mainframe for anything related to the volume _Conversations with Icon_," Kono ordered while he flipped through the pages.

The droid beeped success. Scanning the log pulled up on the screen, Kono came up with something interesting.

"It says on the Czerka mainframe that they found this book by an unidentified relic - possibly an archaic computer system - on the forest floor. This is it, people, we've found our place to start."

* * *

"Sorry, kid, but I don't carry liquid plasma explosives. And even if I did, I couldn't sell it to you anyway. There are regulations, protocols to follow... you know what I mean."

Mission was getting frustrated. Her gut feeling told her that this particular guy running a weapons outfit by the docks would be a tap into the Czerka black market. Trouble was, he was being darned evasive. However, she wasn't finished with him yet. She still had a few tricks up her sleeve to get him to open up.

"Hmm, that's fine, I guess. See, the problem is I've got a Mandalorian mercenary breathing down my neck on this one. I have to get him the liquid plaz and I just know you can help me. Please?" She could almost feel the vendor starting to crack. He knew she knew, and he was going to have to drop his act sooner or later.

But if sweet-talking didn't do the trick, Mission could call in the muscle. Canderous and HK-47 were waiting just around the bend in case things went wrong. Mission would have argued that she could take care of herself, but Kono's orders hadn't left room for negotiation. As it stood, she had convinced them to let her handle herself, but if things went bad they could step in.

It had taken quite a bit of convincing to keep HK-47 under control. The droid had quickly become bored with the monotony of prowling for the underground and seemed as if he could go on a killing rampage any minute just to sate his murderous habits. His unrivaled sophistication apparently didn't include patience routines.

"Kid, do you know what Czerka Port Authorities would do to me if I were into the kind of things you're asking for?"

One more push, that was all she needed.

Mission snapped her fingers over her comlink, sending a message to her two watchdogs. Canderous and HK-47 sauntered around the corner, laden with guns.

Mission smiled and crossed her arms defiantly at the vendor. "I'd wager not as much as an angry Mandalorian and a bored assassin droid."  
That did the trick.

Soon the vendor was offering all sorts of smuggled goods, some legit some not so. None of it was cheap, but being that none of it was on the public market, mostly illegal and often only in prototype, everything was top quality and cutting-edge. Expensive as it was, Kono had given her a practically unlimited budget for restocking their supplies. And that was a good thing; because buying expensive new weapons was the only thing capable of placating HK-47, aside from letting him kill things indiscriminately.

There was one more thing, however. Kono had given her special instructions to inquire about one thing in particular.

"So, do you know of anyone who could get a ship out of impound, hypothetically speaking?" Mission asked, innocently.

The vendor thought for a moment. "Not off the top of my head. Usually, impounded ships get marketed off to passing traders before anyone can get their hands on them."

"You mean, Czerka sells people's ships behind their backs?"

"Like I said, usually. Not always. I don't have anything to do with that. I only occasionally look and see what's up for sale, and I never buy anything."

Mission was worried now. Kono wanted to see if someone in the Czerka underground could help spring the _Hawk_, but it didn't look like that was possible. In fact, things were worse than he might have expected.

She abruptly turned to Canderous and HK-47.

"We have to contact Kono, right now!"

"What's the matter, kid?" Canderous asked.

Mission was getting more and more flustered by the moment. This was not good.

"We have to tell him that Czerka are going to sell the _Ebon Hawk_!"

* * *

Zaalbar grunted in pain as he was shoved to the floor in the Hall of the Chieftain.

Nothing had worked out the way he had hoped and Kono expected. Chuundar's people were everywhere in his village. The slavers hadn't ravaged the village as brutally as they had the areas immediately surrounding what was now their port; some of his people still remained, but the village was infested with Chuundar's spies.

As Kono had suspected, there were some who wanted nothing more than to strike back at their oppressors, but fear of Chuundar had kept them restrained.

And then he had been spotted...

The Chieftain's enforcers had recognized him instantly and set upon him like kath hounds on prey. Zaalbar was strong, but even he was not able to hold off six of the Wookiee High Guard, the sect of warriors loyal to the Chieftain above all else - there were very few who could. He had been a fool to disregard the danger of being spotted by the High Guard.

He bled from a dozen injuries on his face and arms, souvenirs from his struggle. Blood dripped to the wood floor of the Chieftain's hall.

Zaalbar heard the sound of a door opening, and another entering the room. Struggling upright, he face the newcomer. It was Chuundar.

"_So, my brother, you have decided to return at last. I suppose I should have expected that you would try to sow the seeds of rebellion against my righteous rule. How could you do this to me, your own brother? I have always been just and fair to you as I have to our people._" Chuundar's speech reeked of so many lies it was almost beyond belief. Zaalbar wanted nothing more than to crack open his traitorous brother's head.

"_Righteous rule? Just and fair? Chuundar, you sold us into slavery at the hands of Czerka. You are a disgrace to to our father's name,_" Zaalbar retorted.

His brother clouted him in the face with a black-furred paw. "_Liar! I did the only thing that has kept our people alive all these years. What do you think would have happened had we not submitted to Czerka? We would have been destroyed! There was no other way! And as for Father, he refused to change with the times, it is he who has disgraced us._"

Zaalbar seethed at Chuundar's self-righteousness. "_No other way? You never look for another way! Especially not when you can gain power at the expense of another. You willingly blinded yourself to the fact that we Wookiees are strong, together we could have driven Czerka away from our world. But instead, you went behind our backs and made sure they would conquer us!_"

Chuundar grabbed his brother's face and raked his cheek with his sharp claws in anger. Zaalbar understood the message; Chuundar considered himself above even the most hallowed of Wookiee traditions. The use of one's claws as a weapon was a crime punishable by banishment and he was blatantly ignoring that sacred law.

Chuundar turned his back to Zaalbar, and he saw the open door from which he had come. Inside glowed a spherical representation of the known galaxy floating above three elongated chevrons.

The Star Map. Kono would never find it now.

Filled with a pointless rage, Zaalbar lunged for Chuundar. He never reached his treacherous brother, a force pike to the back of his neck brought him to the ground. Zaalbar blacked out.

* * *

"Kono, nothing on the Star Map yet but we have a new problem," Mission called over the comlink.

"Give it to me straight," Kono responded.

"It's Czerka. According to a black market dealer they're in the habit of auctioning off impounded ships to traders and merchants."

"That's a problem."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. How are things going on your end?"

"We turned up a lead. A book that's going to lead us to some ruins on the forest floor."

"Do you want me and Canderous to go with you?"

"No, I want you to wait around and see if Zaalbar shows up."

"He hasn't come back yet? It's been all afternoon!"

"I know, that worries me. But with this new development every minute is going to count and I don't have time to go see what's up with our friend the Wookiee. I need to follow this lead as far as it can take us, hopefully to the Star Map."

"Alright, Kono."

Silence from the com channel greeted her.

She turned to Canderous. "Let's go see if our friend the black market dealer knows of a good cantina. I think Kono's going to be a while."

* * *

A bewildered Czerka employee was only too happy to give Kono directions to the nearest descent-point into the lower forest; a quick eyeful of Kono's pitch black sword had loosened his tongue in no time flat.

The 'elevator' was little more than a basket attached to a counterweight system. It would accommodate them all, but it would be a tight fit.

And it was guarded. Three Czerka Security officers stood guard by the basket, each wearing a dour expression and armed with a blaster rifle.

"Let's see some proper authorization," the man in front demanded.

Kono sighed in exasperation. Czerka had to make everything difficult and they wanted authorization for everything. He simply did not have time for this.

With a growl, he reached out his hand and grabbed the throats of all three security officers with the Force, lifting them up into the air. "You don't need to see my authorization," he commanded, a powerful Force suggestion riding on his words.

He dropped the men.

"We--we don't need to see your authorization," the Czerka officer spluttered as he regained his breath. "Go ahead, do whatever you want. I don't care."

Kono smiled in satisfaction, ignored glares from Bastila and Carth, and boarded the descent basket. Bastila regarded him crossly as Juhani stepped across the threshold to join him, unflinching, followed by T3-M4.

"Come on, Bastila, Carth. I don't want to leave without you," he called to the two.

Silently, they boarded the basket along the others.

"I warn you of misusing your powers and yet you brazenly ignore me," Bastila whispered venomously in his ear while he sized up the primitive ascent/descent controls for the basket. Juhani scowled in disapproval at Bastila's remark, her sensitive ears having picked up the murmur.

"Bastila, we have discussed this," Kono responded, sighing.

"It always bears repeating," Bastila pressed.

The security officer turned his head their way, distracted by their talk. "By the way," he said, "you'd best be quiet on the trip down. Their's lots of dangerous wildlife that'll be attracted by the sound of your voices." He drew a finger across his throat, implying.

Kono nodded graciously. "We'll take that into consideration."

And they began to descend.

Bastila scowled at Kono, still angry that he persistently disregarded her well-intentioned warnings of the dangers of falling to the Dark Side. He couldn't see just how insidious the power of the Dark Side was, he had willingly blinded himself to it. Kono didn't understand the true nature of the Force, instead he made up wild fantasies of how he would like the universe to function and then stuck to them doggedly. He discounted the wisdom of the Jedi Masters on a whim because they didn't fit into his perfect world.

She knew why he had been so corrupted. It was the sword, the black sword that had replaced his lightsabre on Korriban; the sword that gave her nightmares. She had to rid him of it. And what better place and time than where she was, hanging above kilometers of forest in a basket?

Bastila eyed the sword, buckled to Kono's belt not two feet from her. All she had to do was grab it and toss it over the side. Kono would never find it, he would have to hold the Star Map as more important. He would forget the sword.

With one swift action, Bastila thrust her arm out and grasped hold of the sword. Her fingers closed around the black hilt.

It was like grabbing the end of a vibrostaff.

Her fingers locked in place. She couldn't let go. Bastila's eyes widened at the excruciating pain.

And then she screamed.


	2. Survival

Deadly forest predators came screeching out of the gloom. Jungle shyrack, tree-creeping kinrath, and carnivorous forest vultures zeroed in on the vulnerable basket at the sound of Bastila's scream.

Carth, quick to his wits, spun out a pair of blasters and started shooting out of instinct. His fire split the first two forest vultures in half, their falling entrails distracting a few others but not an appreciable amount. His blaster bolts seemed to bounce off the thick armor of the jungle shyrack and the kinrath. The beasts descended almost unimpeded upon the four people trapped in the basket.

Juhani's blue lightsabre sang out, cleaving kinrath and shyrack wherever she could, trying to keep them away from Kono and Bastila.

Bastila's hand still clenched the hilt of Kono's sword in a death-grip, her eyes unseeing, her screams short and ragged from lack of breath. Kono lowered her to the floor, leaned her up against the side of the basket as she shuddered with the pain. Pandemonium all around them both, Kono took her head in his hands, forcing her unfocused eyes to look at him.

"Breath, Bastila! Breath!" He commanded in a firm voice. "Focus on that one thing alone; breath!"

Still she was unresponsive. In vain, she only tried to force another scream from her throat.

With a cry of frustration, Kono reached out to her mind with the Force. What he saw there was terrible and frightening. She was being destroyed by the sword, as he had been warned would happen to any but him. The black sword fed off her efforts to fight it with the Force, burning away her life by her own power.

"Bastila," his voice sounded in her mind as in the air around them, a conditioned calm, "you must let go of the Force. Let go of your training, let go of everything you have been taught, and let your instinct guide your actions."

If she couldn't, then she was doomed.

Kono could feel her hesitation, her fear of relying on only herself. She couldn't do it for herself, the teachings that a Jedi's life is not their own was too ingrained in her mind to be released. She needed a reason to live, so he gave her one.

"Come back to me, Bastila."

He heard a gasp, felt Bastila's fingers uncurl from the hilt. She sobbed a sigh of relief and passed out.

Kinrath were crawling all over the outside surface of the basket, despite Juhani and Carth's efforts. The blood had attracted more jungle shyrack and they were proving to be more than the two of them could handle, the shyrack's thick skin resistant to blaster shots.

Kono stood and drew the sword of Ajunta Pall, the sound of the black steel ringing in the air as he chopped through a menacing kinrath with his first swipe. Hot, insectoid blood splashed on him as he spun to face the approaching threat of more forest vultures. Lethal beaks snapped and razor-sharp talons lashed for him. He dodged fluidly, arcing his sword to slice two in half. The third missed him entirely, its talons instead raking the rope cables by which the basket hung.

A sickening snap was heard, and moments later the basket was in free fall.

Leaving the predators above, the basket and its occupants plunged into the darkness of the forest below.

The fall, Kono knew, no matter how far, would be over quickly. He had precious little time to act. The first few frantic seconds of falling - shock not yet registered fully enough for the cries of panic to begin - stretched into hours. Time held itself suspended for him as Kono considered his only option. He could use the Force to slow his descent, make the fall survivable. He would live and the others would die.

That was unacceptable.

From the depths of his psyche, Kono dredged forth a second desperate alternative, one that would not require him to sacrifice valuable allies. He had no assurance whatsoever that it would be successful, but he knew it was the correct thing to do, the only viable option.

Kono stretched out his hands as time again raced into a blur, air and branches rushing by as fast as a starfighter. With a mighty effort he enveloped the entire basket with a cradle of Force energy, putting every ounce of his strength into slowing their descent.

The ground was still coming up fast, too fast for comfort. Kono yelled in unbelievable strain, pouring ever more energy into his Force hold; energy he didn't even know he possessed. The basket came near to a complete stop fifteen feet from the forest floor. Too exhausted to hold any longer, Kono collapsed unconscious and the basket fell to the ground.

* * *

The impact was considerable but not incapacitating. The basket, however, was damaged beyond repair. The sides collapsed inward, its integrity shattered.

A blue lightsabre blade shot forth and sawed off one side. Juhani grabbed Bastila by the shoulders and dragged her from the ruined elevator, followed by Carth who carried Kono's comatose form. T3-M4 cautiously rolled his wheels onto the forest floor, finding to the relief of his subroutines that he did not slip on the soft ground.

The noise of their fall had alarmed all sorts of forest creatures, a crescendo of animal sounds echoed through the aptly-named Shadowlands. It was gloomier on the forest floor than high night under a crescent moon. What little light managed to creep through the dense foliage to the ground was inadequate.

"Carth, we must get away from here," Juhani urged, lifting Bastila onto her shoulders. "If there are any forest predators in the area, they will come to investigate. We must leave now!" Her words were punctuated by the howls and shrieks of beasts in the distance.

"Yeah, maybe that's a good idea," Carth agreed. He hefted Kono over his shoulder and started off into the forest after Juhani, T3 close on his heels.

The sounds of pursuit followed them through the underbrush. Unseen kinrath clicked their mandibles and rustled through the carpet of decaying leaves as they gave chase. Juhani and Carth were in no position to stand and fight, since they both were carrying unconscious companions. The only choice was to keep running.

Short stunted trees, vines, and withering branches brushed them as they ran. The dead weight of their comatose charges slowed them considerably, encumbering every step, giving more and more time for the ravenous kinrath to catch up with them.

From nowhere, Juhani saw four large shapes materialize out of the gloom. She shuddered with dread.

Bull katarn. They emitted low, grumbling roars.

The hidden kinrath scattered before the fearsome beasts. Juhani and Carth had no such hope of outrunning them. Sliding to a stop, they stared helplessly as the four huge beasts charged for them, sharp horns cutting the air.

There was a guttural grunt, and all of a sudden a green lightsabre flew through the air. It neatly clipped off the lead katarn's horn before boomeranging back into the brush. Juhani and Carth looked on in amazement as the katarn halted their charge to meet the new threat emerging, wielding a lightsabre.

It was an old man wearing dirty brown robes, his head bald, and a thick gray beard on his dark face. His bearing, however, spoke of many years of training and intense discipline; he carried himself like a Jedi, and the lightsabre served to reinforce that natural assumption.

The katarn whose horn had been severed howled in displeasure at the man, who simply stood his ground and waited for it to come to him. Roaring, it charged for the man. He sidestepped the stampeding katarn and lashed at the side of its yawning maw with his green blade, laterally slicing the beast's head open. As it crashed to the ground, he leaped forward, landing on the back of the second katarn. The bull thrashed wildly, trying to detach its persistent attacker. Lightsabre strikes bounced off the thick hide on the beast's back.

Frustrated, the man jumped from the enraged animal's back and sliced open one of its forelegs. The katarn snarled in pain and anger at the old man and stumbled to the ground, unable to get firm footing with only one working foreleg. Satisfied at his adversary's incapacitation, the man whirled to face to other two bulls.

The first of the two to charge got a lightsabre in the mouth. The green blade seared through the katarn's maw, piercing the skull and gouging out its brain. The second managed to score a glancing blow to the old man's side, sending him spinning to the ground. But before the beast had a chance to stamp its strong hooves on the prey, the old man flicked his arm and scored a deep incision in the katarn's belly. Entrails spilled.

All four threats were neutralized.

"Follow me closely. The scavengers will be all over these carcasses in a few minutes and you look like you could use a place to put your friends down for a while," the old man said in a low, gruff voice.

"Who are you?" Carth asked, suspicions flaring.

"Well I'm certainly not a katarn, now am I? I'm a friend, and that's all you need to know," he replied in an almost insulted tone. "Now, are you going to come with me or not?"

"The man is right, Carth," Juhani advised. "The dead animals will most likely attract others and I can sense no threat from him. He will help us."

Carth was still clearly distrusting of the old man, but agreed at least with Juhani's assessment. "Alright, we'll go along. Kono is getting a little heavy. But I'm warning you, I don't respond well to surprises."

"Surprises?" The man huffed. "I'm an old man, just how many surprises do you think I have left in me? Hmm?" He would have sounded offended but for the trace of humor in his voice. "Just stay close to me. My place is under log not too far from here, just a brisk two-mile walk."

"Let's go then," Carth suggested.

With the old man in the lead, he took them deep into the forest. Obeying his warning, Juhani and Carth stayed close, for as they saw, it would be very easy to lose their way in the confusing and disorienting forest paths in such little light.

He was as good as his word. From up ahead they saw soft, muted light coming from a homey little structure built underneath a gigantic fallen tree. A trickle of smoke curled out of one corner. The inside of the house was even more eccentric than the outside; the walls were covered with examples of every imaginable item one could possibly collect over a long, eventful lifetime. Blasters and fishing nets shared the same spaces, star charts and a set of Malistarean cutlery sat side by side on a shelf, lots of utterly random things were cluttered about everywhere. Along one wall, however, was a well-stocked and highly organized shelf of herbs, flowers, and sprigs collected from across the galaxy that served as natural healing agents - nowhere near as potent as kolto, but not as expensive either. There were also books everywhere, scattered on tables, shoved in between random objects on the shelves, and stacked on the floor.

In the middle of the chaotic mess was a reclining chair and an old desk covered in papers. Carth gratefully slumped Kono off his shoulder and into the chair. According to the old man's direction, Juhani laid Bastila down onto a bed that lay in another corner of the house. From nearly all outward appearances Bastila looked fine, but the red inflammation on her hand suggested otherwise. She was also running a fever. Kono, on the other hand, was merely exhausted, physically drained from the effort of halting their plummeting drop to the forest floor.

Winded from carrying their companions two and a half miles, Juhani and Carth sat to catch their breath while the old man rummaged about on his shelf.

"Now where in the heck did I put it last?" The old man mumbled as he examined various jars of assorted herbs and other substances.

"What's the matter?" Carth asked.

"Ah, I was just trying to find a plant I have around here somewhere that could help with the lady's fever. But I guess I must be all out at the moment," the man returned, grumpily.

"Maybe she'll recover on her own," Carth offered.

"On her own? Son, I'll cut you some slack for being the soldier type, but there ain't no way she'll bounce back from this on her own. Sure, sure, she'll eventually recover, but with this kind of fever it could take days at the shortest, weeks at the longest." The old man narrowed his eyes at Carth. "And I get the feeling you don't want to be stuck here for weeks, hmm?"

When Carth didn't answer, the old man harrumphed and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Juhani inquired.

"I just told you I've run out of an important plant, I've got to go get more!" He answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and shut the door.

* * *

Kono awoke much later. His hand still clutched the hilt of his sword as he lay in the reclined chair. Quickly sheathing the black blade, Kono sat up and took stock of his surroundings. He saw the random objects decorating the walls, the stacks of books in every conceivable place, Bastila lying on a bed in the corner. Juhani was dozing leaned up against a desk - also stacked with papers and books - and Carth was dutifully keeping watch out one of the small house's two windows, T3-M4 waited close by. The Cathar became immediately alert when she saw Kono sit up.

"Kono, you are awake! How do you feel?" She asked, worriedly.

He brushed her concerns aside. "I'm fine. Where are we?"

"At the house of an old man who lives here in the Shadowlands," Juhani answered.

"How is Bastila?"

"She still has not regained consciousness. She is feverish, and the man left to find an plant he believes will help her."

"Tell me everything that happened from the moment I passed out," Kono instructed her.

Juhani recounted in detail her and Carth dragging him and Bastila from the wrecked basket and fleeing the approach of predators and scavengers. Kono listened to her tell him of their subsequent pursuit by the kinrath, and raised his eyebrow at her recollection of the old man saving them from four bull katarn.

"This man must be an old Jedi Master," Kono surmised. Juhani nodded in agreement.

"Forgive me, Kono, but I must ask; do you know what is wrong with Bastila?" Juhani inquired.

"She made the mistake of touching my sword, no one but I may hold it. Given the chance, the sword's power will destroy all others who touch it," Kono expounded.

"Will she recover?"

"I hope so. She realized what she needed to do to let go of the sword, so she may return to us. If she hadn't, her hand would still be locked around the sword and she would be long dead by now."

Rising from his chair, Kono inspected a number of the books lying on the desk. They all seemed to be memoirs of sorts, most accounting times spent on smuggling runs; a very un-Jedi-like activity, he thought. But they were all written in a manner that seemed recently familiar.

The old man returned a few hours later, bearing a handful of fragile nightflowers.

"Well, well, look who's up and about," he commented, seeing Kono pouring over the books on his desk.

Kono looked up, taking stock of the old man. He instantly agreed with Juhani's decision to trust him. The old man looked like nothing so much as a Jedi Master, as he had previously deduced from her description.

"To whom do I owe thanks for rescuing my companions and providing shelter?" He asked.

The old man furrowed his brow. "Asking questions already, are we? That's nice and neighborly, isn't it?" He grumbled. "I'm your host, boy, so you'd better start showing some manners or I might just throw you out of my house."

"I do tend to ask a lot of questions," Kono admitted. "A background in special forces tends to teach you to gather as much reconnaissance as you can when not at the expense of necessary action."

"Special forces, hmm? Not at all what I figured, but I guess it fits," the man pondered.

Taking the nightflowers, the old man ground them in with a fine powder that he dissolved into a glass of water. He held it out to Kono. "Help your unconscious friend drink this, it will help to lower her fever," he instructed.

Kono warily took a sniff of the liquid. He recognized the nightflowers' scent, it was one he was used to from using in field surgery. The old man was indeed correct, it would help Bastila's fever. At least, if _anything_ could.

With Juhani's assistance, Kono trickled the liquid down her throat. As he did so, he reached out to her mind through the Force once more. He found her there; hiding, afraid to come out. She had retreated into the dark corners of her psyche, a frightened little girl scared of the monsters that lived only in her own imagination.

"You are a Jedi," Kono spoke to her, "the Force is your shield, your sword. But it cannot protect you from yourself, only you can. Only you have the power to drive back the darkness that is born of your own mind. You are strong, you can succeed. You _will_ succeed. Return with me, Bastila."

As he spoke, he sensed her beginning to loosen her hold on sweet oblivion. Slowly, she crawled out of her hiding place and took the hand of his strength.

Kono opened his eyes back to reality. Bastila's fever had broken and she was awake, staring at him.

"How did you do that?" She asked.

"I didn't. You did," he answered.

Kono rose and turned to face the old man, recognition dawning on him.

"You are the author of _Conversations with Icon_," he pronounced.

"Now how would you know about that?" The old man asked suspiciously.

Kono produced the volume from his pack and presented it to the old man. "We found it in the Czerka Colonial Archives."

"Dang corporations! So that's where this went off to," the man exclaimed. "I thought it'd gotten lost, carried off by some animal. I accidentally nodded off one time while I was writing in it, woke up a short time later and forgot all about it. When I finally did remember and came back, the book was gone. Some poaching Czerka slime must have picked it up as a souvenir."

"I would be very interested to see the ruins where this AI you spoke with is," Kono said.

"Perhaps you could take us there," Bastila suggested.

"Take you there? Why should I do that? How do I know you aren't the ones who stole my book to begin with?" The old man retorted.

"You don't, since you have only our word. Why should you take us there? Because those ruins may contain the key to saving the galaxy from utter destruction by the Sith," Kono responded without missing a beat, beginning to tire of the old man's roundaboutness.

The man raised an eyebrow in sudden interest. "Utter destruction, hmm? Aren't you the one to talk."

Kono frowned in displeasure. "We could make this hard or simple, but it's your choice. I really do need to see those ruins."

"Just settle down for a minute, there! I'll take you to the ruins, but first you'll have to do something for me," the man bargained.

"I'm listening."

"There's a Czerka poaching team who've set up their camp about a half-mile to the west of here. I want them removed. Their presence offends me; they don't respect the forest or the wildlife they butcher wholesale."

"You could take care of them yourself. Juhani told me all about the bull katarn."

"Yes, I suppose I could. But I'd rather see how you'll handle it. I'm not going to show those ruins to just anyone."

"Fair enough. But I hope for your sake that you do not choose to underestimate my resolve concerning this matter. This is the easy way, but with or without your cooperation I _will_ see those ruins for myself," Kono warned.

"Then this should easy for someone like you. Go on!" The man responded in exasperation.

Before leaving, Kono probed for one more bit of information. "I don't believe I caught your name."

"It's Jolee. Jolee Bindo."

"Kono Gansk. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

* * *

They left some time later, Bastila insisting that she go with Kono despite feeling unwell. She maintained that she was more than well enough to accompany Kono, and he had relented.

As they headed west, she wanted to talk.

"Just keep your voice down. The animals around here seem to be attracted to excessive sound," Kono admonished in a low voice of his own.

"Alright," she agreed.

"Now, what do you wish to talk about?" Kono asked, ducking into a small ravine to get under a fallen log.

"Does your sword always hurt you as it hurt me?" Bastila asked, comforting her throbbing hand.

"No it doesn't. It handles like just another sword," he answered.

"Then why--?"

"Because Lord Ajunta Pall charged that no one but I may touch his sword, under pain of death. Had you not found it in yourself to let go, the sword would have destroyed you by the very Force with which you fought it," Kono elucidated.

"Ajunta Pall? Kono, Ajunta Pall has been dead for millenia! He was an ancient Sith Lord!" Bastila protested, unable to comprehend what he was telling her.

"Indeed he was. He was entombed on Korriban, his spirit enslaved by the Force, consumed by the power he had let become more to him than his life. I showed him the way towards what should have been his all along, peaceful death. It was in gratitude that he gave me his sword and his curse on it. The sword was the final thing I needed to gain entrance to the tomb of Naga Sadow, where the Star Map had been hidden away."

Bastila was stunned. Kono had never mentioned this, and she had never bothered to ask. She'd been too blinded by her perception of him as having been tainted by Korriban that she didn't care to examine the reality of what truly had happened. It was all like he had said; she put stock in what she was told rather than what she had seen and known.

Slowly, she formed her words. "So then, everything you told me before..."

"Every measure was necessary," he confirmed.

"Kono, I--I think I owe you an apology," Bastila contritely admitted. "I'm sorry for judging you over what I had thought rather than what I knew. That was unbecoming of a Jedi, and I am sorry."

"Apology accepted, Bastila. In the future remember that we have to make our choices based on facts we know to be true. Understanding is not something taught, but something we have to achieve on our own, through our personal experiences and individual knowledge."

Before Bastila could open her mouth to voice her agreement, Kono held his hand up for silence. Up ahead was the Czerka poaching team's camp. There was a perimeter of turrets creating a sonic barrier to act as a deterrent against beast attacks, and each member of the nine-man team was armed with a rifle and blaster pistols. They were currently packaging their latest haul of illegal game within the boundaries of the camp, protected from the dangerous wildlife.

Covertly, Kono clipped a wrist blade to his right arm, keeping it concealed and out of Bastila's sight. Moving quietly, he and Bastila crept up to the sonic barrier. The poaching team were too busy with their work to bother checking the perimeter that they already knew was secure, so Kono and Bastila were completely undetected where they crouched, only a few dozen meters from the team.

In silence, Kono held up his hand again to Bastila, miming a countdown and then pointing at the barrier to be sure she understood. She nodded in comprehension. Counting down from five with his fingers, Kono braced himself for the unpleasant sensation he knew would come. He'd dealt with sonic barriers before when he ran in Special Ops and was well aware of what it felt like to walk through one.

As one, Kono and Bastila stepped across the sonic barrier. For a fleeting moment, it felt as if both their ears were imploding. But it was over in a brief second. Unfortunately, their entering unavoidably disrupted the sonic field, alerting the poachers.

The man who looked to be the commander turned around when he noticed the disturbance. "You idiots! Mind the perimeter, we've got bandits!" He yowled at the rest of the men.

The commander raised a blaster pistol, but Kono was already moving. He flipped his wrist blade point-forward as he took Force-assisted bounds toward his adversary. Bastila, still shaking off the effects of the sonic barrier, was left in the dust as Kono tore ahead with lightning speed. His Force senses took note of the commander's finger on the trigger, in the process of applying that minute bit of pressure required to discharge the weapon.

The commitment was made, Kono moved in for the kill.

Just two steps away from his target, a blaster bolt ripped through Kono's side. Yelling in pain and anger, Kono plunged his arm forward, sinking his wrist-mounted knife into the commander's neck, piercing the carotid artery and severing his spinal cord. Death was instantaneous and exceedingly messy. The commander's blood splashed in Kono's face as it twisted in a grimace of pain, effort, and satisfaction.

As the commander's blood-soaked corpse fell to the ground, the rest of the poachers brought their weapons up. Kono glared at them, his red-smeared face terrifying in the dim light. He lashed his hand out.

To the poachers' bewilderment their guns left their hands, floated in midair and pointed themselves at their bearers. As one, the safeties disengaged to a twitch of Kono's finger. Horror appeared on the poachers' faces with the realization of what he intended.

"Kono! Stop!" Bastila's voice distracted Kono for a moment, preventing him from pulling the triggers on the men before him.

Bastila rushed up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Kono, don't do this!"

"Why not?" He asked, pain creeping into his voice. "They made their choice to throw in their lot with Czerka, to become poachers without even the decency to hunt for their prey! They are the enemy!"

"Killing them will serve no purpose, Kono!" Bastila pleaded. "These men haven't harmed you, only the dead man has. Kono, let them go."

The men held at their own gun-points watched breathlessly, waiting for either word they were being let go or the final sound of blasters discharging.

Despite the growing pain, Kono's mind worked faster than ever. Anger dissolved in the wash of reason. Reason demanded he deal with the remaining men as quickly as possible, they were inconsequential. He needed to tend to his wound.

Kono held his glare as he spoke with menace. "If I ever see any of you in the Shadowlands or anywhere on Kashyyyk I will kill you without hesitation. This is the only warning I am ever going to give you; walk away from this. Away from the poaching, Czerka, everything! Make better choices for your lives or you will stand as my enemy and I will cut you down. Now get out of here! Go!"

In seconds, the men disappeared into the forest.

Kono discarded the blasters, thrusting them away with such power that they embedded themselves in nearby trees. Suddenly, pain fired through his torso. The agony of his wound became too much for him and he collapsed to the ground. Bastila immediately knelt over him to inspect his injury.

What she saw shocked her.

The shot had not been nearly as glancing as it had appeared. There was an entrance wound just below Kono's heart, paired with a matching exit wound out his back. A hole had been bored clean through his chest by the blaster bolt that hit him. Blood was gushing onto his black robes from the terrible wound.

With a sudden flash of fright, Bastila didn't know if she would be able to heal such a grievous injury. If she couldn't, then Kono would die, choking on his own blood as she tried to save him.


	3. Confrontation

Mission was surprised to see the Wookiee walk up to her in the relatively crowded cantina, she'd only seen a few Wookiees around - most of them slaves - and they'd all studiously ignored her. But not this Wookiee who deliberately approached her. He looked nervous, which was not at all surprising considering all the Czerka guards present in the cantina who might mistake him for one of the numerous slaves and draw the wrong conclusions.

"_Are you Mission Vao?_" He asked.

"Um, why do you ask?" She cautiously answered.

"_A friend named Zaalbar asked me to find you. He said you would be in the company of a Mandalorian._"

Something about his demeanor told Mission to be careful. His tone, the way he held his head; she wasn't quite sure what it was, but she didn't think he had any good news.

"What is it? Is Big Z in trouble?" She asked anxiously.

"_Zaalbar has been arrested by Chuundar's people. He is in prison and needs to send a message to someone named Kono Gansk. He says that you are able to get a message to this person, yes?_"

Mission was for a moment struck speechless. Angrily, she thought she should have known something like this would happen; Chuundar wouldn't just let him waltz around stirring up rebellions. Now he was in prison...

"Unauthorized native!" The sudden shout of a Czerka guard jerked Mission into focus. The Wookiee growled in protest as a group of Czerka guards began dragging him away.

"Hey! Leave him alone, you thugs!" Mission yelled at the men with the horrible yellow sleeves.

"I don't think this is the time or place for this, kid," Canderous advised from beside her at the bar.

"I know what I'm doing," she responded under her breath as the crowd in the cantina started to watch the confrontation.

One of the Czerka guards turned to look back at her. "You just shut your mouth, little Twi'lek brat!" He snarled. Several people chuckled.

Incensed, Mission snatched Canderous' tall glass of juma juice from the counter-top and hurled it in the Czerka guard's face. She sneered at him as the whole cantina hooted with laughter. None of the Czerka guards were amused.

Wiping the stinging beverage from his eyes, the guard looked about ready to murder someone. "You're really going to regret that you whiny, under-aged schutta!" The crowd ooh-ed in expectation and the Czerka guards closed ranks.

Mission was unfazed however, as Canderous dropped down from his seat at the bar to stand next to her and HK-47 started flexing his arm servos.

"You want a fight?" The imposing Mandalorian challenged the guys wearing the yellow sleeves.

HK egged them on. "Encouragement: Yes, let us fight! Commentary: I would relish the opportunity to terminate hostile meatbags."

The crowd was baying for a fight, both groups of belligerents glaring hatefully at each other.

"Maybe we'll just teach you to mind your--!" Mission dropped the Czerka guard with the big mouth with a quick lashing kick to the stomach. Yelling, the other Czerka guards charged at the Twi'lek, Mandalorian, and assassin droid. The crowd erupted in a drunken roar as a full-scale brawl broke out.

HK-47's first punch caved in the face of a Czerka guard, who fell backwards with blood streaming from his mouth and nose, stone dead. Canderous delivered a crushing blow to another guard who was holding the Wookiee and knocked him to the floor. Quickly, he ducked to avoid two additional Czerka guards rushing at him, and just as quickly he grabbed them by the necks and yanked them to the floor, bashing their heads against his rock-solid knees. Roaring with exhilaration, he plunged into the thickest fighting.

Mission had been in bar fights before, on Taris, and knew exactly what to do to keep from getting squashed like a sand flea. She ducked under wild blows, crashed chairs into and threw drinks at people who tried to attack her. An exceedingly unlucky Czerka guard who tried to throttle her got hit by Mission's crippling kick to his groin and fell back screaming in agony as she leaped over him.

She didn't care about the fight, all she cared about was rescuing the brave Wookiee who had come to tell her something, something Zaalbar had sent him to tell her. It wasn't hard to spot the tall Wookiee, he towered over everyone else engaged in the pointless bar fight. Dodging the flailing arms and lunging bodies, Mission dove for the Wookiee. She grabbed his arm.

"Come on, we need to get out of here!" Mission yelled over the ruckus.

The Wookiee nodded his head in agreement and they made for the door. Too distracted by the bar fight, none of the remaining Czerka guards paid much attention to the unbound Wookiee, and except for a few drunken morons who tried to pick a fight - and were promptly thrown out of the way by the angry Wookiee - they didn't have too much trouble escaping rioting cantina. Once outside, Mission urged the Wookiee into an alleyway off the main street, to stay out of sight if and when the port authorities showed up.

Mission clicked her comlink, trying to reach Canderous. "Hey Canderous, quit fighting and get out here! Mission accomplished, now come on!"

Whether or not he heard her she couldn't tell.

She turned back to the worried Wookiee. "Sorry about all that trouble, I didn't want them to hurt you or take you away to some camp somewhere."

As the Wookiee nodded his thanks, Mission saw Canderous and HK-47 explode from the cantina, breaking the door down with the flying bodies of their opponents. Several other angry Czerka guards and patrons rushed at them through the broken entrance and met the Mandalorian's well-worn fist.

Mission whistled a quick signal to catch their attention before more people burst out of the cantina looking for blood. The Mandalorian and assassin droid noticed her and shuffled into the alley and out of sight.

"You two looked like you were having a good time," she chastised.

"Sad statement: I regret that the death toll was not higher."

"Well, I'm sure _you_ do," she countered to the droid's remark. "Thanks for backing me up, Canderous."

The gray-haired Mandalorian chuckled. "No problem. That was less taxing than a training exercise."

"So what does Zaalbar need me to tell Kono?" Mission asked the Wookiee.

"_He says to tell Kono the Chieftain has the Star Map. Do you know what this means?_"

Mission most certainly did.

"It means we're in a lot of trouble." Uselessly, she tried her comlink but was unable to raise Kono. Something must have happened in the Shadowlands.

A lot of trouble indeed.

"Do you think you can show us where this prison is?" Mission asked.

"_Chuundar has people everywhere, you will not get very close. But I may be able to take you on an alternate route. You will have to follow me closely._"

"Okay, kid, what's going on?" Canderous interjected.

"Improvising," she responded easily. "Kono wants to set off a revolution, we're going to help things along."

* * *

Blind panic threatened to overwhelm her, hopelessness close on its heels. For the better part of her whole life, Bastila had done nothing but train for the day she would not have the Masters to call for help. But now that day had come and she had absolutely no idea what to do, her training and discipline had fled to the four winds in the rush of the moment. Desperately, she tried to make her mind think, but no thoughts came to her that would save Kono's life.

His condition worsened with each passing instant, each beat of his compromised heart pumped fresh blood into his chest cavity, through the gaping hole that barely missed his cardiovascular system, and onto his robes and the dirt of the forest floor.

Bastila fought back tears of futility as she tried to invoke a healing trance but found to her dismay that the Force was once again as chaotic and unbound as it had been before Korriban. The peace was gone. Unbidden, thoughts of the consequences should she fail and Kono die came to her mind. None of them were pleasant, she _had_ to save him somehow.

And then she remembered. There _was_ peace in passion, serenity existed through chaos; Kono's seemingly meaningless contradictions suddenly made sense to her. It was the same way he had helped her achieve meditation through battle. She might not have the strength or the knowledge to heal him, but through their bond their _combined_ power might be sufficient.

As always, Bastila felt the bond there in the back of her mind, almost invisible. She latched onto it with all her raw passions. Immediately she felt reciprocation from Kono's side of the bond, sensed his enormous command of the Force join with hers.

Moment were precious now, but time was slowing down for her. In her mind's eye she could see every beat of Kono's heart, hear each set of valves opening and closing to admit or restrict the flow of blood to other muscles and organs. She knew what she needed to do now.

Commanding both her and Kono's power in the Force, Bastila called forth the most powerful healing methods she could summon. It surged through her, gathering strength within her before jumping the infinitesimal distance from her hands to Kono's chest. A white glow shone from between her fingers as Kono's body flinched with the pain of healing. The blood she felt staining the robes beneath her hands began to pour back into the arteries and veins from which it had spilled. The flesh of Kono's chest started to close over the gaping wound as the white glow intensified. Bastila felt his pain in every muscle as she directed the power to seal the breach.

With a final surge of her Force powers, she closed up the hole in his chest and suddenly the power evaporated, leaving only sparkling points of light in the air around her as a reminder of what she had just done.

Kono heaved a full breath, then another, and another, until the rhythm of his breathing became normal again. Only then did he sit up and look at Bastila.

"Why do I keep doing the things you make me do, without my ever knowing how I do them?" She asked helplessly.

Kono shook his head. "You've known all along, Bastila. You simply deny yourself the right or the reason to use them. Thank you for saving my life."

Bastila nodded wordlessly. Taking his hand, she helped him to his feet. The still-bleeding body of the man Kono had killed lay only a feet few away, it was the only corpse on the ground where there could easily have been two.

"Letting them go was a mistake," Kono said suddenly.

"What are you talking about?"

"The poachers. We should not have let them go."

Bastila's ire, directed at Kono for the unending irritation and frustration he had been to her, returned in force. "It was a mistake to let them live? Would you simply have executed them for their existence being inconvenient? Jedi do not kill unarmed prisoners, especially when there is no reason for such a horrible act!"

Kono was indifferent to the fire in her voice. "If I see them again I _will_ execute them, but that was not my point. My point is that they have a transport somewhere that is capable of taking them back to the surface; we have no such transport. So even if we are to find what we are looking for down here, we still have that problem to deal with."

Finding her indignation unfounded, Bastila awkwardly fell silent.

Luckily for her, Kono wasn't in the mood to dwell long on the subject. "Come on, let's get back and tell this Jolee that his dirty work is done."

* * *

Jolee had a frown on his face when they returned, he could obviously tell things hadn't been without bloodshed. "I would have preferred you didn't resort to violence. There's already enough to go around and overeager thrill-seekers don't make things any better when all they can think of to remedy a situation is to kill everything in sight!" His voice was on the brink of a roar.

To her surprise, Bastila found herself jumping to Kono's defense. "They forced our hand, we defended ourselves. And besides, only one of them died, the others left of their own accord."

"I'll bet the 'convincing' wasn't pretty, now was it?" Jolee retorted.

"Aside from their commander, they were spared," Kono interrupted. "A bad decision as that may have been, we got rid of your poacher problem. Now I am still very interested in seeing those ruins and I expect you to honor our agreement."

Heads turned expectantly toward Jolee; Kono's, Bastila's, Juhani's, even Carth's.

"Fine, fine. I'll take you."  
"Let's go then."

* * *

The old man led them down a nearly invisible trail at the back of his house that led through some of the most concealed and overgrown parts of the forest any of them had seen yet. It was clear that they were delving deep into the oldest parts of the forest as the way became more difficult almost with each passing step. Vines hung heavy on low-lying branches, creating curtains of dark green growth that hung everywhere, thick roots writhing above the ground crossed the practically nonexistent path every few feet, and the long-dead corpses of fallen Wroshyr trees turned the forest floor into a canyon of decaying wood.

After several hours of strenuous, exhausting jungle hiking, they came upon an unnatural clearing. It was almost a perfect circle of flat, treeless land paved with overgrown stone blocks. And all around were the remains of what must once have been a spectacular building. Only crumbled sections of the foundations persisted, they too on the verge of dissolution.

"How long ago did you discover this?" Kono asked as they moved among the ruins.

"A couple of years back," Jolee replied. "The AI construct is in the center."

They were otherwise silent as Jolee led the way through the ancient rubble.

Kono's Force perception began to detect threat as they came closer to the middle of the crumbled wreckage. Jolee apparently felt it as well, for he paused at an old arch and held up his hand for them to stop. In the dim light it was nearly impossible to see anything beyond the ghostly stone archway. But sight was not necessary to hear the profoundly threatening voice that rang out in the forest air.

"I know who you are and I know why you're here. Lord Malak expected you might return to this planet, to these ruins. It may surprise you to know that the Star Map is not here any longer. A foolish Wookiee took it for a trophy. You have wasted your time on this foolish quest and played right into my hands. Your life ends here!"

Crouching behind a decaying wall, Kono could visualize the voice, picture in his mind the face behind it. It was a face he'd seen before. The face of a man he'd seen brutally murder a close comrade. And suddenly he knew the name of that face; Bandon. The Sith waiting in the ruins was the one rumored to be the apprentice of Malak himself.

He heard movement among the disintegrating bones of the ancient building, figures rushing in from all sides. A trap was sprung. A trap for them--for him.

Instinctively, Kono drew his sword, the sound of it instantly alerting his companions, and he leaped into the air. With a back-flip he was over the wall and facing the black figure of Bandon. Behind him, Kono heard lightsabres igniting, clashing against one another as combatants met in wild fury.

He saw the red blade shoot from Bandon's lightsabre and he lunged for his enemy. Hesitation was death, inaction the suicide of the ignorant.

Kono's first strike was turned aside by a well-placed block from Bandon and the battle was joined. Lit by the red glow of Bandon's sabre, the two contesters clashed in a deadly dance of blades.

The crimson energy beam crashed into the black steel blade time and time again as Bandon threw himself ruthlessly at Kono, lethal power behind every swing. Kono could feel hatred seething from his opponent as he quickly moved to parry each of his blows with the humming blade of Ajunta Pall, which bristled with a power all its own. Every deflection and block he made was measured, taken into account by Kono's calculating mind in those split seconds of time between parry and retaliation.

His counter-attacks were just as dangerous as anything with which Bandon threatened. Kono's own unique lightsabre form blazed to life at his beckoning, modified motions of the Makashi and maneuvers from several other different forms melded seamlessly into cutting attacks and sweeping parries which were retaliatory strikes in themselves.

Beneath his hands, the sword of Ajunta Pall crackled with energy, bolstering his endurance and quickening his reactions with every strike he made against his Sith opponent. It hummed as any lightsabre would as he swung, chopped, thrusted, and deflected with its black blade, any clash with the adversary reinforcing the sword's power. It was a perfect cycle of combat that lent a considerable edge to the bearer of the sword; as the fight wore on, Kono was fed by the power of the sword while his enemy became more and more fatigued with every strike, the clashes themselves pouring more power into the sword.

Kono could feel Bandon coming to the same realization, and out of instinct threw up barrier against the Force attack he knew the Sith would attempt.

His instinct was proven correct when a knot of lightning exploded from Bandon's hand and deflected off of Kono's preemptive Force barrier. Seeking a new endpoint, the blue bolts arced to the ruined walls, shattering them and igniting the overgrowth. The battlefield was suddenly illuminated by the flickering orange light of flames eating at the primeval forest.

Another bolt of lightning shot forth, this time bouncing straight back at Bandon and burning a hole in the ground between him and Kono. Before he could try yet again, Kono responded with lightning of his own.

Ominous coils of purple electricity raced from Kono's fingers and burst from the tip of his black sword. Fatigue not yet showing in his movements, Bandon blocked with his lightsabre. But the lightning did not behave as it should have. Instead of dissipating into the energy beam, the purple bolts spread in every direction from the impact and then curled around Bandon, encasing him in a pulsating electric prison.

Bandon was paralyzed as the violet cage of lightning rushed back like a storm into Kono's outstretched hand, tearing a large portion of his life force with it as it left. He stumbled, weariness now sinking into his bones. Awkwardly, he let his guard fall. Sluggish muscles tried in vain to respond to the sight of Kono's black sword swinging for him. Weakly, he tried to deflect with his lightsabre, but his arm was too slow.

Kono swung the sword with all his might, cutting diagonally down at his adversary. The blade's edge hit just below Bandon's left shoulder, slicing instantly through flesh and bone and more flesh. Sharper than a razor, the black sword axed through the Sith's ribcage and exited near the waist. With a look of utter surprise etched on his face, Bandon's upper half slid from the rest of his body as it collapsed to the ground.

Kono looked to his companions. They were fighting a group of six Sith, four others already lying dead. He sheathed his sword; he would not need it to deal with those remaining Sith. Feeling stronger than ever from the energy he'd sapped from Bandon, Kono shot tendrils of invisible Force energy from his hands, plucking each of the six Sith from off their feet and holding them before him.

Just hours ago, doing this very thing had exhausted him to the point of unconsciousness. No longer. Not after the strength he'd gained from both the sword and from draining Bandon's life. He held the Sith as easily as toys. He twitched his index finger and their lightsabres flew from their grasp, landing deactivated at his feet.

Weapons still at the ready, his companions watched as he addressed the furious Sith held in his grip, the scene lit by the expanding glow of the burning wildfire.

"You are servants of hatred. Thinking yourselves masters of your coveted power you direct it to attain dominance over all others. You have misguided yourselves, become so bound to your power in unadulterated self-interest that you have lost all regard for life in any shape or form! Your hatred of the free and innocent will not be tolerated!" With a venomous glare, he looked into the eyes of one of the Sith and cocked his head to one side.

The Sith's neck snapped audibly and he fell in crumpled heap to the ground.

Kono turned to the next Sith. "You forfeited your right to life by sanctioning and aiding this profane crusade of wanton destruction." Another loud cracking sound announced a Sith's violent death. Kono's eyes singled out another. "Your own choices condemn you." _Snap!_ "You were unwilling to go to the effort of exercising self-control and rational thought and so instead turned to violence and brutality as a way of life." Twin wrenching cracks were heard.

Only one Sith remained. Fear plain in his eyes.

"Kono, stop this!" Kono heard Bastila demand.

"Stay out of it, Bastila," he ordered firmly, not taking his eyes off the last Sith.

"Tell your Lord Malak that his days are numbered. I am coming for him and I will end his senseless campaign of slaughter." At his last condemning word, Kono hit the Sith with a concussive blast of Force energy. The Sith was instantly thrown backward into the gloom and knocked unconscious on the ground.

Bastila was grinding her teeth.

"What was that?" She asked icily. "You executed unarmed prisoners!"

"They made their own choices, deciding that they have a right to take our lives on a whim. I made my own choice not to stand for such evil. Their hate for peace and happiness makes them our enemy to the death," Kono held steadfastly.

"And what of this message for Malak? What possible purpose could you have by sending him such a message? Furthermore, how can you think to make such a promise? Jedi nature precludes us from becoming the aggressors," Bastila sternly lectured.

"No war is ever won defensively, Bastila. And we are in a war where failure to obtain victory will mean our deaths and the loss of all we hold dear. I intend to bring Malak's war to him. I will show him death, and then I will destroy him. He deserves no less."

"Kono, such a mindset will lead only to further--"

"Enough! I am finished discussing this!" Kono barked suddenly, stunning Bastila into silence. "Where is Jolee?"

"You don't need to shout, I'm right here," the old responded.

To everyone's shock, Kono drew his sword and held it at the old man threateningly.

"Kono, what are you doing!" Bastila yelled. She ignited her lightsabre, looking to be on the verge of attacking him.

Jolee remained neutral even as Kono held him at sword-point.

"You knew!" Kono accused. "You led them here! I could sense your duplicity the moment you walked through the door with your nightflowers!"

"Kono, this is madness!"

"Stay out of this, Bastila!" In fury, he gave her a warning nudge with the Force, just enough to knock her slightly off-balance. Turning his attention back to Jolee, Kono continued.

"So what was it old man? What convinced you to turn us in?" He snarled.

"Stop insulting me and maybe I'll just tell you," Jolee retorted.

"One chance. I'm listening."

"Yes, yes, you were correct. I was indeed being duplicitous, but not in the way you seem to think. You see, I have a few Wookiee friends here in the Shadowlands who've been being attacked by a small band of Mandalorians. While on my search for the nightflowers, I came across one of them and promised to convince you to help. Apparently, my skills of concealing hidden intentions aren't as polished as they used to be. If you were good enough to pick up on my deception you should have no trouble discerning the truth in my words: I have no idea how these Sith found this place."

Everyone watched breathlessly as Kono absorbed Jolee's explanation.

"I believe you," he said, the intensity leaving his eyes. He lowered the sword and returned it to its sheath. "If you had betrayed us the Sith would have shown up while Bastila and I were still unconscious. I'm sorry to have mistaken your intentions, but don't ever try to conceal something from me again. I will know."

"Hmph! Believe me, I'm smarter than that!" Jolee responded.

Kono turned to face Bastila, who still held her active lightsabre. "Put your weapon away, Bastila."

Instead of doing as he said, Bastila took a step towards him, holding her twin amber blades threateningly. "Draw your sword. Draw it!" She yelled in anger.

Kono only stared at her. "We are not enemies, Bastila. Why should I fight you?"

"You have fallen to the Dark Side!" Bastila screamed. "Draw your sword!"

Suddenly, a flash of red robes filled Kono's vision. Juhani leaped in front of him and ignited her blue blade, fending off Bastila.

"Stop this, Bastila! It will not help us!" Juhani urged in a calm but firm voice. "Kono is doing as he must."

Kono watched the two women silently as they confronted each other.

"Step aside, Juhani," Bastila pleaded. "This must end now!"

"Yes, it must. But not in this manner! You anger is misplaced. Do not make the mistake I did with Quatra, please!"

"You heard him, Juhani, all of you did! He intends to replace Darth Malak! He is no better than the Sith he so callously executed! Ask Carth, he knows!" Bastila was shouting now.

Sadness was in Juhani's golden eyes as she regarded Bastila. "You know there is no truth in those words, Bastila."

"Move aside!" She begged.

"You want desperately to strike out at something, just as I did. Kono is not your enemy and you know it, but your misplaced anger has overridden your reason. Striking at Kono will not make things better, only defeating your enemies - our enemy - will! Don't commit yourself to this!"

Tears glistened in Bastila's eyes at Juhani's reprimand. Slowly, she staggered backward, extinguishing her dual blades and falling to her knees. A tortured cry of anguish and bitter acceptance escaped her lips.

"Please kill me now," she implored. "I do not deserve to live. I have fallen to the Dark Side."

Juhani silenced her lightsabre, but it was Kono who responded. "No, Bastila, you haven't fallen. You've taken the first steps towards coming to peace with the emotions the Jedi could not utterly erase from you. Your feelings are yours alone to govern, the Dark Side is irrelevant."

Kono could see hope come back into Bastila's eyes as she latched onto his words, wanting to believe more than anything that he spoke the truth.

He held out his hand to her.

All at once her countenance changed. Her determined posture returned and the torment left her face. She grasped his extended hand and rose to her feet.

Her cheeks were still wet with tears when she spoke with renewed vigor. "Let's find this Star Map."


	4. Strange Allegiances

Bandon had been correct in one thing; the Star Map was no longer there. It had been moved, taken somewhere else, or as he said, stolen. All that was left was the intriguing AI construct Icon. It appeared as a hologram of a basic humanoid-shaped body, there were no positive features that identified it as one race or another. And the things it had to say were astounding. Unfortunately, they didn't have time to spend hours and hours conversing with it as Jolee had during the years he'd lived in the Shadowlands. Kono disconnected Icon's memory/processor module, intending to to interrogate the AI later.

The ruins were a dead end, and time wasn't doing him any favors. He had to move things along, tend to some of his other goals.

"Listen up, people," Kono addressed his companions as he turned away from the ancient computer. "It's time to pursue other avenues, and that means we have to roll forward with the overthrow of Czerka Corporation. Mission, Canderous, and Zaalbar may have accomplished things up on the surface that we know nothing about. For this reason I am going to send some of you back up to the port to make contact and relay our situation."

Carth raised his hand. "And how are we going to do that? Last I checked we were still trapped down here."

"These Sith obviously got down here somehow. They have a transport nearby, I was able to pry its location from the mind of the Sith survivor," Kono responded.

Carth seemed satisfied, so Kono continued. "I am going to remain in the Shadowlands for the time being. There may be allies to be found among those Wookiees banished here, and the Mandalorian raiders could prove useful as well. Jolee, Juhani, and I will seek out these Wookiees and their persecutors. Carth, Bastila, and T3, you take the Sith's transport up to the surface and find the others. Bastila will know where to find the ship."

Carth looked quizzically at Bastila, who shrugged. "We are bonded," she answered simply, and he let it drop.

"We need to move," Kono admonished.

At his word, Bastila, Carth, and the droid got on their way, Bastila leading. Kono turned to Jolee.

"Alright, you've convinced me to help. Take us to these Wookiees."

Jolee huffed and started off.

As he passed Bandon's ruined corpse, Kono bent down and scooped up the Sith's lightsabre. Its design would work well for what he had in mind for his next weapon.

Following Jolee, he and Juhani plunged back into the thick forest.

* * *

"Bastila, something's wrong with Kono," Carth worried as they headed through the forest, taking a less dense trail than the one they had followed to the ruins.

"I know, Carth. I've known it for quite some time," Bastila responded. She was proceeding slowly, hesitantly following a loose sense of direction she felt through her bond to Kono. "Unfortunately," she continued, "there is no obvious solution because neither of us truly knows what is wrong. We have a feeling but can't base it on anything solid."

"So unhesitating execution of unarmed prisoners doesn't qualify as 'solid'?" Carth retorted. "That's not the way we do things in the Republic, and somehow I get the impression that its not the way Jedi do things either."

A mass of conflicting thoughts ran through Bastila's head. Almost against her better judgment, she once again jumped to Kono's defense.

"How many innocent people do you think those Sith have murdered, Carth? Is it not better that justice be dealt, even in a questionable manner, than for there to be no retribution at all? Furthermore, the Sith would not show us such courtesies as mercy if our positions were reversed," Bastila reasoned.

"Dangit, Bastila! Can't you see? If we stoop to their level then how are we any better than the Sith?" Carth argued.

Bastila sighed as she paused for a moment, figuring out which direction to take. "The Jedi--the Republic have been applying that strategy - rather unsuccessfully, I might add - for close to three and a half years and have lost more systems to the Sith than I would care to count. I'm not saying that I agree with all of Kono's philosophies or practices, but I think perhaps that the galaxy is better off for every Sith that dies."

Carth was not satisfied. "You're making my point for me. A week ago you would never have said anything like that. Kono's affecting you, I can see it as plain as day."

"Carth, I don't expect you to understand, but when a Jedi comes to the brink of falling to the Dark Side because they feel so strongly that another has already fallen, and then that same person convinces you of the truth, it casts everything into a different light."

"Well, that 'different light' is what concerns me. This isn't like you and you know it!"

"I'm sorry, Carth, but I do not know any other way to explain it to you."

"Fine. But don't expect me to stop watching you two for an instant. I'm not going to be betrayed again."

Bastila sighed in acceptance of Carth's incomprehension, focusing again on the faint signals she felt that continued to guide her through the thick forest.

It wasn't long before they came upon the Sith ship, sitting underneath a poorly constructed covering of forest debris and guarded by a pair of Sith apprentices. Bastila felt their presences long before they became visible and steered Carth into the underbrush. Concealed from the eyes of the Sith, Bastila and Carth crouched, observing. T3-M4 had the good sense to keep his electronic beeps and whirs quiet while they watched.

Carth presented Bastila with a sonic grenade, miming a throwing motion directed at the two Sith. She nodded, agreeing to his scheme, and gripped her lightsabre in preparation.

Carth hurled his grenade. The metal sphere flew through the air and hit the ground with a tinny metallic ping, instantly alerting the two apprentices. One reacted faster than the other, ducking behind his companion's body to shield himself from the blast. The grenade detonated in a white flash. Stunned by the explosion, the first Sith had no chance against Bastila's leaping attack. His arm fell severed by a critical strike from the two amber blades.

As the first Sith fell away, she was faced by the second, who had barely been affected by the grenade blast. He ignited a red lightsabre and struck back at her in seething hatred. Bastila found herself unprepared for the Sith's assault. This was no amateur, he was a well-trained lightsabre specialist whose moves were exceedingly hard to counter. He crashed his sabre against hers in a raging hunger for her blood while she parried with great difficulty.

She was nearly taken down from behind by the first Sith. He had staggered to his feet and picked up his lightsabre with his remaining hand, intending to stab her in the back while she was occupied. As he raised his arm to strike, Carth drilled him with blaster fire from his position in the bushes, taking some of the heat off Bastila.

While she was grateful to Carth, Bastila couldn't spare so much as an instant to thank him, fending off the Sith was becoming an all-consuming task. The feeling of devoting all her energy into the next block or deflection brought her mind back for an instant to sparring with Kono. He'd been this good with the lightsabre and better, making her fight furiously just to keep him at bay. She also remembered what he'd told her: _You are holding back. Release yourself into the battle. Become one with your blade. Then will you find peace amidst the chaos... You have to let go of everything, even the Force, and let your lightsabre be guided by the basest of all instincts; survival... The Force is merely a tool, it is not the answer to everything... Enemies are not defeated by half-measures._

It was the answer. It was the _answer_!

Bastila did as Kono had instructed her, she let go of everything and released herself into the battle that her Jedi training demanded she shrink away from. Even more than feelings, Kono emphasized the power of instincts; and survival was an especially powerful one. Bastila let it guide her to destroy the one who sought her life, fighting back with every ounce of strength she possessed. Her whirling strikes with the dual yellow beams of her lightsabre were as ferocious as those delivered from the Sith's crimson blade.

Her eyes tracked the red beam effortlessly, directing her hands to make the next parry or to strike at a weak spot with a biting swing or stab. There was nothing but her and her opponent, no motion but the fluid dance of their blades. Everything fell away as she emptied all her efforts into attacking with ever more deadly precision.

The flurry of motion became so intense that Bastila felt a certain stillness about it. Every motion produced an equal and opposite counter-move. The chaos balanced itself out perfectly, creating an odd sense of peace. Bastila understood the fullness of it and pressed it to her advantage, drawing upon the calm of the frantic situation.

She felt the Sith beginning to weaken. Unlike her, he didn't understand the true nature of battle as Kono had taught; he had the hate, but none of the direction or control. His parries were desperate and his attacks random, with no pattern interconnecting those two aspects of swordplay.

It was over in a flash. His tired hands slipped and a stroke went wide of its mark, creating an opening into which Bastila poured her attack.

Deflecting his feeble strike with one blade, in the same motion the second blade whistled about to cleave the Sith's head from his shoulders.

The lifeless body slumped to the ground.

Bastila exhaled in a sigh of contentment and relief. The state of total battle had had the same effect as hours of meditation, leaving her feeling tranquil. She paid no mind to the corpse before her as she signaled to Carth and T3.

Carth cast a wary glance at the two Sith corpses, almost as if he expected them to rise from the dead and attack them while their backs were turned. Satisfied at their state of deadness, he inspected the transport. It was little more than a personnel shuttle, there was no armor or armaments of any kind; obviously they hadn't been expecting armed bandits, only hostile wildlife. T3 was only a few moments working before he'd coerced the outer hatch into opening for them. Carth climbed gratefully into the pilot's seat.

"Finally, something straightforward," Bastila heard Carth mumble to himself.

Slowly at first, then gradually increasing in speed, Carth lifted the shuttle upwards off the forest floor, heading for the canopy.

The ascent took them close to an hour, having to fly carefully to avoid getting caught in the tightly interlocked branches of the higher-up forest. About halfway up, their comlinks staticked back to life; Bastila immediately tried to contact Mission and Canderous but received no response.

Neither of them were willing to get worried just yet, holding out that they might for some reason have their comlinks turned off. Their prudence was rewarded when, an hour later, as Carth landed the Sith shuttle on an abandoned platform a few miles from the Czerka port, Mission's voice crackled over the comlink.

"Nice to see some of you guys are back!" the Twi'lek girl exclaimed.

"Mission, it's me and Bastila," Carth responded. "Kono still has a few things to take care of, as I understand."

"That's fine. Things are basically okay up topside. We managed to throw a wrench into Czerka's plans to sell our ship. Canderous and I locked everyone out of their impound hangar; they ain't selling nobody's ship, least of all ours."

"That's good news, Mission," Bastila remarked.

"Oh, hey Bas', how's it going? Oh, wait, stupid question. Listen, maybe you guys want to come over our way? We've got something you need to see and something Kono needs to know," Mission suggested.

"Can you tell me where you are?" Carth asked.

"Sure, I can give you directions if you need. Basically it's just a matter of following the most unused path away from the cantina at the one end of the port. If you can't figure it out from there, I'll tell you more. I really don't want to say too much over the comm; listeners and stuff, you know."

"Alright, Mission, we're on our way," Carth said as he got the shuttle airborne once again, heading this time for the far end of the Czerka port.

At Carth's last transmission, Mission smiled in satisfaction. Everything had gone off almost completely without a hitch; if there was one thing she was getting good at by now, it was springing Zaalbar out of prison. And not only had she and Canderous accomplished that, they'd also busted out a fair share of other Wookiee political prisoners who were eager to join their planned revolt. Kono had allies now, allies of the best kind. The kind angry enough to do whatever it took to succeed.

* * *

Kono hoped Jolee knew where he was going. They seemed to be wandering aimlessly through the forest, following the same trails two or three times before the old man found another. Kono curbed his impatience, however; there was more to this old man than what met the eye, and he was willing to reserve judgment on his forest guide skills for the time being.

Occasionally they would strike up conversation, keeping their voices low so as not to attract wildlife. When Juhani asked why he'd left the Jedi, Jolee responded, "Because I got tired of it! You know, for a long time I thought it was my calling to sit on the Council. But by the time the day came, I'd realized that the vaunted Masters knew only about as much as any other Jedi. It was all a facade, a show of political power, and very little actual wisdom that you couldn't get from any other Jedi master. And then there was the divine power issue, that did it for me."

"What do you mean?" Juhani asked.

"What I mean is they buy into their own propaganda. They think that somehow sitting in fancy chairs in a fancy chamber in a fancy temple on Coruscant makes them qualified to occupy a position of almost divine authority," the old man grumbled.

"Is that not the point of having the Council?"

"No. The point of a council is to make informed decisions that reflect the views and consent of the people. The Jedi Council isn't much more than a distributed monarchy!" Jolee was getting really worked up, carelessly letting his voice rise higher in volume. Wisely, he quieted, and continued in a lower tone.

"Besides," he added bitterly, "after seeing everything from murderous, rampaging hate to heartfelt love labeled 'the path to the dark side' I couldn't stand the moral hypocrisy anymore. So I left."

It sounded to Kono like Juhani had hit on a sensitive issue. Considerately, she fell silent, but Kono made a mental note to investigate further.

A snap instantly caught Kono's attention. It was the kind of snap Kono had heard all too often before ambushes while in the special forces. He didn't need the Force to warn him of the threat just moments from striking.

Reacting as fast as the lightning-quick sequence of his thoughts, he hurled his two wrist blades out to his sides and into the underbrush. As a pair of surprised cries were heard, and while Juhani and Jolee were beginning to make reactions of their own, Bandon's lightsabre appeared in Kono's hand. Its red blade shot forth to deflect a brace of deadly blaster bolts back into the bushes, impacting yet more hidden adversaries.

Two more lightsabres hummed to life, blue and green blades glowing in the murky twilight.

A single barking command rang out, and over fifteen blue-armored Mandalorian warriors burst from the vegetation, surrounding and pointing huge repeater rifles at the three Jedi. Four more crawled out of the brush, two with Kono's blades stuck in their shoulders and two with blaster marks from their own weapons on their armor.

The Jedi waited motionless, lightsabres at the ready, as a red-armored Mandalorian decloaked in front of them.

"We've seen the old man before, but you _are_ new around here," the red Mandalorian remarked, a chuckle in his voice. "You're very perceptive," he complimented them. "You sensed our trap before it was sprung. We Mandalorians take great pride in being able to utterly surprise even the most skilled Jedi; you are remarkable to have been aware of our presence."

"You might want to school your men on not breaking twigs. That's not a mistake you'll want to make twice. I won't be so conservative next time," Kono responded coolly

The Mandalorian laughed. "You are a bold one, indeed! I am Jaskers Kaliim, Warrior of Mandalore, Commander of--"

Without warning, Kono's free hand lashed out with a net of Force energy, and every Mandalorian's gun was suddenly floating in midair and pointed at its owner.

By the way Jaskers' head jerked, Kono could tell he was startled by the sudden turn of events. He grinned while Jolee and Juhani watched, bringing the glowing tip of Bandon's red lightsabre to Jaskers' helmet.

"Now, as I was saying, the reason I was so restrained in dealing with your ill-advised trap is that I'd rather not kill you." He cocked his head slightly to one side and a rifle fired off a shot that landed between the feet of one of the blue-armored Mandalorians. "I'm sure you won't doubt my ability to kill you all on a whim, hmm?"

Jaskers, still dazed by the jarring reversal of positions, was only able to manage a weak, "What do you want?"

"What I'd like very much to do right now is kill you all for wasting my time," Kono returned ominously. "However, I don't waste resources," he added, to the Mandalorians' relief.

"Alright," Jaskers responded cautiously, "so what is it?"

"You and your men are obviously bored out of your skulls. Waiting along an old forest trail to ambush a few Wookiee outcasts or an old man? That speaks lengths of your overpowering boredom. You're warriors without a cause for which to fight. You don't know it, nor would you admit it, but your spirit has been crushed." Kono snapped his fingers for emphasis. "I, on the other, and my companions, _do_ have a cause to fight for, and our will to fight is unwavering. We're also in the market for allies, and we'll pay well."

Jaskers and his men perked up, despite still being held at the points of their own guns. He didn't bother trying to hide his interest. "You do realize that you're giving us the chance of either dying by our own weapons or helping you and getting paid in return?"

Kono's diplomatic smile belied the deadly serious matters he was dealing with. "Yes, of course I do. That's why it's an offer you can't refuse. I know for a fact you won't feel held back by your sense of honor, otherwise you wouldn't be here preying on banished Wookiees in the first place. It really is up to you; messy death, or something to do and a paycheck."

The red-armored Mandalorian's helmeted face was inscrutable. He held out his hand. "Deal."

Kono extinguished the red lightsabre and took Jaskers' gauntleted hand.

The Mandalorian suddenly jerked his arm backward, dragging Kono forward. As he whipped his other arm around deliver a crushing blow to the side of Kono's skull, Kono rammed the lightsabre hilt against Jaskers' lower stomach with his free hand.

The man in the red armor froze, knowing exactly what part of him would be sliced off the instant Kono activated the red blade. He released Kono's arm and stood otherwise motionless.

"As if I needed any more proof that you're no amateur," he grumbled. "Alright. We'll do this your way, I'll not shame myself any further," Jaskers conceded.

Kono smiled again, this time it was almost genuine, and the Mandalorians' floating guns fell from the air. "We won't have to go through this again, I take it?"

Jaskers shook his head vigorously. "You've bested us all and given us a truly irrefusable offer. We'll take your orders."

"Glad to hear it. The name's Kono Gansk."

"I'm honored."

* * *

Kono paid Jaskers two thousand credits just as a retainer and to make sure they wouldn't get their own ideas and go back on their deal. The Mandalorians claimed to have their own way back up to the canopy villages, so Kono ordered them up topside to wait for him and formulate strategy for the first phase of his plan.

He, Jolee, and Juhani still had one more thing to see to in the Shadowlands. Even though it was probably a lost cause, Kono was going to offer the banished Wookiees the chance to take back their home. Time was ticking away, he was going to have to set things in motion.

He tried to raise Bastila or Carth on the comlink, and was surprised when Bastila's voice came through.

"Good news, Kono. Mission's stalled our deadline, so we have some extra time before Czerka Corporation manage to get rid of the _Ebon Hawk_; she locked them all out the impound hangar."

Kono allowed himself a small sigh of relief. If there was one thing he hated about deadlines, it was that more often than not you didn't even know how much time you had. Mission had just given them breathing room.

"That's great, Bastila. I've managed to secure a deal with some allies, so we're not going to have to do this all by ourselves," Kono responded.

"Kono, do we really need to go through with this whole revolution?"

"I keep the promises I make to people. Have Canderous and Mission found Zaalbar yet?"

Bastila's voice dropped as she answered. "They had to break him out of one of Chuundar's prisons."

Kono's eyebrow raised involuntarily. "Prison?"

"Yes, as well as a whole lot of other Wookiee prisoners, politicals mostly." She sounded worried now. "Kono, these Wookiees are in a state of barely controlled rage. They want blood and I don't think they care whose it is at this point. If you let them run a coup there will unmitigated slaughter. Is that what you really want?"

He gave her credit for being cautious, but couldn't believe she was back to asking these kinds of questions. He'd been clear on this.

"They have a right to be angry, Bastila. Their own people sold them out to the slavers! They live under the iron rule of a selfish dictator who cares for none but himself and have been imprisoned by that same despot merely for speaking contrary to him. They won't fight because they have no one to follow, no leader to rally behind, and so their anger seeks to let itself out by other avenues. You asked if we really needed to go through with a revolution; the answer is resoundingly yes, otherwise that undirected anger will turn these Wookiees into terrorists and they will direct it at anything and everything. I've seen it before. Now where's Zaalbar?"

Bastila's voice dropped even lower. "There is something else that I should have told you at first."

"What is it?"

"Chuundar has the Star Map. Zaalbar saw it with his own eyes." She was nearly whispering now.

_A foolish Wookiee took it for a trophy._

Kono grimaced, Bandon had spoken the truth.

"Alright, get Carth to bring Zaalbar down here as fast as he can. I'm going to need him. And the necessity of this little revolution of ours just got higher."

"Very well. Why do you need Zaalbar?"

"One last thread to tie. I think the Wookiees need a leader."

* * *

It was some hours before Carth and Bastila returned with Zaalbar in tow, and all three were equally clueless as to the why; something Kono had kept to himself for the time being. He asked them all except Jolee and Zaalbar to stay with the ship, giving vague explanations and making it clear he would only reveal what he chose to. With his companions left simmering in the questions he wouldn't answer, he turned and followed Jolee back onto the forest trails

He now knew why Jolee had taken them on such a random heading; he had been hoping to draw out the Mandalorian threat and not lead them to his Wookiee friends. A wise decision for several reasons, and now they had enough muscle to punch a large enough hole in Czerka Corporation to get the _Ebon Hawk_ out. But they still needed the Wookiees to overthrow Chuundar and retrieve the Star Map.

It would do no good to get false hopes up, and Kono wasn't sure his gamble would pay off, so for now they had to be kept in the dark about how he planned to get the Wookiees to follow him.

Kono was so deep in thought that he barely noticed they had been trudging for hours. Angrily, he berated himself for his lapse in concentration. _Distraction is death_, he told himself, recanting maxims that were engraved in his mind like an epitaph: _Distraction is death, you have to be aware of everything and consider all things around you, even if they seem to be unrelated to each other. Process your whole environment, not just what you see in front of you but also everything to the sides, to the top and the bottom, and be aware of it even as it passes behind you. Unawareness will kill as surely as will a knife to your throat._

"Hold on," Jolee said suddenly, stopping. He peered around the woodland, inspecting the shadows suspiciously. Zaalbar did the same, only more surreptitiously.

Kono washed the entire area in the Force and deciphered the perceptions that flowed into his mind: They were in a recessed area of the forest, a bowl in the landscape. Dead trees were strewn about, partially obscuring a shallow cave in one of the bowl's walls. It was at this that Jolee was directing his worry; the trees had been disturbed. He felt warnings radiating from the ground around him, tainting the air he felt with threat.

"This is a problem," Jolee pronounced.

"What is it?" Kono demanded.

"This is where he should be. I asked him to stay here, he should be here."

"He? There is only one?"

"Yes. Sorry for being vague, but I'm never sure about these things. Sometimes there are others, but almost never are they the same as before. The Wookiee who lives here is the only one I've seen more than two or three times. You might say he's a neighbor."

Without warning, a huge figure lunged at Kono from the surrounding trees, knocking him to the ground. Momentarily stunned, Kono was unable to grasp at why he hadn't detected the threat; he had felt its presence, but not been able to feel it coming. Following lightning-fast logic, he instinctively rolled to his left to avoid the follow-up attack he knew must surely be coming. His instincts proved correct, as a razor-sharp blade sliced the ground where he had lain only seconds before.

Relying on the Force to solve all his problems was the reason he hadn't felt the attack coming; he had disregarded his well-honed wits.

Kono sprang to his feet and immediately drew his black sword. He heard Jolee yelling, couldn't understand the words, and disregarded the old man and concentrated on his attacker to ward off the next blow from the longsword. Ironically, he found himself surprised to find it was a Wookiee he faced, a Wookiee with rage in his eyes. He heard the Wookiee roaring, the words not directed at himself, but at Jolee, who stood off to the side still yelling.

"_You betrayed me! You allied yourself with the dishonorable warriors and brought a filthy outsider to my dwelling! I will kill him and then I will kill you, Jolee Bindo!_" The wrath was nearly incoherent.

More and more he was convinced that he'd gambled correctly.

Easily, he backed up, giving the Wookiee room to press forward as he held off the strikes of his longsword. Under the pretense of retreating, Kono led the Wookiee around the bowled landscape, letting him tire himself out as he threw reckless energy into the swipes and stabs of the longsword, which only bolstered Kono's strength. He lost track of where Jolee and Zaalbar where, but it didn't matter; they weren't as yet needed.

He heard the Wookiee breathing heavily, felt his blows shudder with weakness, and in an instant turned to the attack.

Kono made one single strike. He plunged the sword past the Wookiee's blade and sliced a shallow cut on his torso. He felt the sword's power come alive with the taste of blood, felt the readiness to kill rise in himself, but swiftly choked it down. Instead of following through and sinking the black blade into the Wookiee's chest, he held back and flicked the longsword from the Wookiee's grasp with a quick twist.

"_Kill me while you can. I'll not submit to your torture and slavery, outsider!_" the Wookiee roared defiantly, at the point of Kono's sword.

"Despite what you think," Kono spoke, slowly returning his sword to its sheath, "I am not here to harm you or your people."

"_And yet you have done so!_" the Wookiee spat contemptuously.

"You attacked me first, I defended myself," Kono answered simply. "I've sought you out because I wish to free your people."

"_Lies! Outsiders' every breath is deception meant to lure and take advantage of us! You are no better than the rest!_"

"Yes, perhaps you have been so numbed by lies that you can no longer distinguish the truth when you hear it." Kono heard Jolee and Zaalbar approaching cautiously. They didn't know it, but their timing was perfect.

"Zaalbar," Kono called out, "come here and convince this honorable Wookiee of our intentions."

The injured Wookiee bristled. "_Why do you speak my son's name?_" he demanded.

Kono smiled in triumph, Jolee chuckled with discovery, and Zaalbar gaped in astonishment.

"Freyyr, I believe this _is_ your son," Jolee declared.

Kono saw recognition spark in the eyes of both Wookiees, and in his mind the final piece of his puzzle clicked into place.


	5. Revolt

Night had fallen, plunging the canopy villages of Kashyyyk into a deep gloom broken only by the occasional sight of the half-moon peeking through the foliage. Czerka Corporation had installed lamps all along the fabricated walkways that connected their small port with the outlying subservient villages. They glowed with soft orange light, creating pools of illumination under the forest's blanket of darkness. Shadows moved on the walkways, avoiding the light and sticking to the dark walls as much as possible. In the light, they could be seen for what they were; Mandalorian warriors.

There were close to twenty of the red- and blue-armored commandos. They moved stealthily across the walk, gripping weapons large enough to take out armored tanks. Coming to a crossroads, the man in the lead, a red-armored warrior wearing a sword over his back in addition to his already-considerable weaponry, made a series of short, quick signals with his hands. With crisp professionalism, the twenty Mandalorians split up into four groups of five and each took different routes toward the same goal. On their own, the smaller groups proceeded with the same swift efficiency.

The groups were to hit the same target simultaneously from four different directions, secure the area, and hold their position until further notice. Silently, they advanced through the shadows, sneaking easily past drowsy patrols, and towards the small impound hangar.

Elsewhere, in the town of Rwookrorro, a band of Wookiees similarly crept through the shadows towards the Hall of the Chieftain; Chuundar's seat of power. Mission trailed along, ready to relay Kono's orders, for the fighting would not start until Kono gave the word. Everything relied on precise timing and coordination between all three groups; the Mandalorians, the Wookiees, and Kono's company.

* * *

Unlike the Mandalorians and the Wookiee rebels, Kono's group was not operating covertly. They were in plain sight dead center of the Czerka port. He, Carth, Bastila, Juhani, Jolee, and the droids were going to hit Czerka's nerve center for their entire infrastructure. He would give the people one chance to surrender, and those who didn't would sorely regret their choice. Carth had gone on record voicing his objections alongside Bastila's, but Kono was adamant; anything short of government change would not be sufficient to free their ship, recover the Star Map, and prevent the Wookiee revolutionaries from turning to terrorism. It had to be done.

As they ascended a short set of steps leading to the main entrance, a group of Czerka guards moved to block their way. Kono set his jaw and readied himself for the inevitable, but Bastila surprised him.

She waved a hand at the guards, passing a wave of Force persuasion over them. "You do not wish to be here. You wish to find another place of employment."

They agreed, as if in a drunken stupor, and scattered out of the way.

Kono raised an eyebrow. Bastila shrugged. "Killing people is not always the only choice you have, Kono."

"You'd better be prepared to kill, Bastila."

"Perhaps, but not until it's absolutely necessary."

"It will be."

The inside of the nerve center had the same disinterested, sterile drab look that was so prevalent in Czerka establishments. The night shift receptionist paled slightly when she saw the heavily-armed contingent approach the desk.

"Can I help you?" she asked, trying to keep her voice at the same apathetic monotone that was expected of Czerka personnel. But she couldn't mask her unease completely.

Kono leaned down over the desk, leveling his dangerous brown eyes with hers. "Who holds direct responsibility for the Czerka Corporation presence here on Kashyyyk?" he asked. His tone was harmless enough, but everything else about him spoke of overt threat.

The receptionist made a valiant effort not to show how ruffled she was as she answered him with a textbook waving-off. "That would be Rawn Jorell. I'm afraid he's quite occupied with company business tonight. If you could please come back tomorrow and make an appointment--"

"Where is he?" Kono interrupted.

"Please come back tomorrow and make an appointment," she repeated.

"Tell me. Where. He is," he growled, hitting the woman's mind with a needle of persuasive suggestion.

Her mind was soft and pliable as clay, and she was immediately persuaded to tell him. Satisfied, Kono implanted one more command into the receptionist's brain. "Now leave. Get out of here if you want to live."

The woman was gone in seconds, and they moved along.

"Are you going to kill him?" Bastila asked as they walked.

Kono gritted his teeth. "If I have to."

"I'd like to know what's going on for a change, Kono," Carth complained almost in a whine.

"There is one chance for this not to end up in a bloodbath, and that's if Rawn can be convinced that the danger to the Czerka Corporate investments is too great to sustain and leave the Wookiees to their squabbles. By presenting him with evidence of an organized Mandalorian assault on his port, it might be possible to get him to order an evacuation of Czerka personnel. There will still be a Wookiee revolution, but less people will die."

"What if it doesn't work?" Carth asked.

"Everyone wearing yellow sleeves, from officers to grunts, if they get in the way or resist, will be killed."

Carth swallowed and looked at his shoes, fingering the blaster on his belt. "You know, Kono, I can think of a couple people you're starting to sound like."

"It wasn't half measures that won the war, Carth."

Rawn Jorell's office was two levels up, past a sea of cubicles and terminals, in the middle of a long hall. The office itself was as Kono had expected; lacking any sort of decoration or luster or anything that drew attention to itself and away from the large orange plastering of the Czerka symbol on the wall above Rawn's desk. He was not expecting, however, who would be Rawn's visitors.

A caped Sith, four underlings, and six silver-armored Sith soldiers waited in the office.

They barely had time to gape in surprise before the Sith attacked.

A scything wave of energy bolts erupted from the soldiers' heavy blaster rifles. Carth and the droids dove for cover behind desks and tables and returned fire while the Jedi whipped out their lightsabres and sent deflections bouncing around the room. Kono simply held up a hand and the blasters shots dissipated against his gauntlet. Hooking his fingers, he tore a rifle from the hands of a Sith soldier. Holding it in one hand, he discharged a brace of quick shots that neatly decapitated a pair of the silver-armored soldiers. With his next motion he tossed the rifle to HK-47, who had taken cover beside Carth, and swiftly drew the black sword of Ajunta Pall from its sheath, brining it into a quick parry to block an opening swing from a charging Sith's red lightsabre.

The remaining Sith soldiers scattered as those with lightsabres turned the room into a free-for-all dueling circle.

Kono, Juhani, Bastila, and Jolee had their hands full with the five fierce Sith. All engaged in separate battles with their own opponents, none were able assist any of the others. Kono found to his surprise that they were more skilled in the lightsabre arts than many of the Sith they'd encountered thus far; he was more impressed by the Sith he faced than he'd been by Bandon. His opponent was ruthlessly professional and delivered crisp strikes with more control and intent than Bandon could match.

Filled with the rush of battle, Juhani took on two Sith at once with her twin blue blades. In her people's honored tradition, she fought with the strength and drive of one possessed; what she lacked in advanced skill she made up for with sheer tenacity and the nearly unparalleled Cathar tendency for aggression.

Bastila and Jolee dueled with their enemies in a more reserved manner, saving their strength for critical strikes when they would be most taxing to their opponents. Jolee was content to let the Sith batter away at his skillful defense for long stretches, while Bastila would deliver stinging retaliatory strikes more often. Their yellow and green blades moved almost of their own accord, holding back the biting red sabres.

There was a scream and a body fell to the floor as Juhani stabbed one of her opponents through the chest before whipping the blade through his ribcage to meet another swing. When he hit the floor, already dead, his torso tore wide open, exposing smoking flesh.

Kono felt himself entering the warm, silent world of total combat where all that existed was the sword and the adversary. Unconsciously, he warded the stray blaster bolts that came his way, pushing away their unwanted distraction with ease. Gripped in his hands, the sword moved fluidly from one attack to the next, drawing energy from each of the Sith's counter-moves, slowly draining him. It sang with power as Kono clashed with the Sith, pouring its force into his fight.

As the fighting grew ever more furious, the frenzied flurry of attack and retaliation more chaotic, Kono only became calmer. It seemed the ultimate of contradictions, but he knew better. Contradictions were a perception, and often not even existent. Chaos was the way of the universe, and it created a purer harmony than the artificial creation known as 'serenity', which had to be enforced to exist.

He became chaos.

There were very few who understood the nature of combat as he did. Too many tried to place rules and guidelines on how battle was to be fought; Kono knew better. Battle was about hurting and killing your opponent, neutralizing his resistance, through whatever means were necessary. He took the battle as it presented itself to him, being a chameleon to his enemy's single nature, able to change his technique to fit the particular threat.

When the time came, all it took was a single cut. The Sith's fatigue-induced mistake of misjudging the force behind Kono's stab was sufficient to wreak his own undoing. The black sword tore across the ineffectual parry and sliced through the Sith's neck; the forward thrust severing muscle and tendons, and the withdrawal splitting vertebrae. The Sith fell back with blood gushing from open arteries, not even having had a chance to scream.

The blood was still splashing onto the marble floor as Kono pivoted to face Jolee and his opponent, swinging the sword around in an arc as he preserved its momentum from his last strike. The Sith was occupied with Jolee; the blood of his comrade hadn't even had a chance to fall on him and alert him to Kono's presence.

Kono's sword exploded through his neck, decapitating him amid a red mist and shattered pieces of bone.

Jolee acknowledged Kono with a grunt and deftly deflected a trio of blaster shots, taking out a Sith soldier attempting to catch him off-guard.

The rest of the Sith fell quickly.

"That was... unexpected," Bastila remarked curtly.

"Maybe not entirely so," Carth responded, putting his blasters away.

"Statement: That was fun. Query: May we do it again, Master?"

Satisfied that all the Sith were dead, they began to relax a little. Kono and Juhani remained apprehensive, however.

"He is still here, Kono," Juhani said.

"I know," he replied.

Sword still out, Kono marched up to the big desk at the end of the room. It was covered in blaster marks and blood spatter. With almost no effort he shoved it away, revealing the cowering figure of Rawn Jorell. He held the bloody sword point an inch from Rawn's face.

"So," Kono growled, "I was wondering how the Sith might have known I was here."

"It--it was just a business arrangement!" Rawn stammered.

"Just a business arrangement," Kono repeated thoughtfully. "Just a business arrangement."

"Do you know what this 'business arrangement' is going to cost you?" he asked.

Rawn was unable to answer, feeble excuses dying on his lips. Kono leaned closer, a deadly glare on his face.

"You just decided for every last Czerka employee that gets in my way, whether they will live or die. My patience for your accursed corporation is at an end. So starting with you, I'm going to eradicate Czerka's presence on this world."

Sudden terror crossed Rawn's face. "No, wait! We can talk about--!"

The sword through his neck silenced his protests. Kono spared the corpse not a second glance as he began calling out orders.

"T3, jack into their network and upload the disruption algorithm on my command." Obediently, the droid rolled across the blood-slick floor to a terminal and plugged in, throwing thousands of cutting-edge cracking routines each second at the network's security systems. As T3 worked, Kono laid out the rest of his plan:

When T3 was finished, the Czerka comm network would be crippled and they would be unable to respond to the sudden violence in a coordinated fashion, giving their sparse forces a chance to accomplish their objectives without being overtaken by an organized resistance. The Mandalorians would secure the _Hawk_, and Kono and the others would meet the Wookiees halfway to kill Chuundar and recover the Star Map. When Chuundar was dead, Kono expected the Wookiees would waste no time getting into the fight. While the Wookiees took up what they'd started, Kono and the others would leave.

He looked hard at Carth, Jolee, and Bastila in turn. "You aren't going to like this, but you will need to be ruthless. We need to move fast, and strike with enough violence to get the job done. That's how the revolution game works; you must rise up and crush your opposition when he expects nothing, or you doom yourself to a bloody war of attrition that you will surely lose to his greater forces. We're committed now and there is no backing out; Rawn Jorell made sure of that by selling us out. And there's no telling how many other Sith are about. So we have to operate on the assumption that anyone that gets in our way is an enemy. If there are honest people here, T3 will give them fair warning and they will have a chance to live."

Carth scowled but said nothing, Jolee nodded his understanding, and Bastila swallowed nervously. Kono went on. "We have two objectives: get the Star Map, and get out alive. We'll kill anyone we must, the objectives take priority. There's a galaxy counting on us to find the Star Forge and stop Darth Malak; failure is not an option."

With a trill of beeps, T3 announced the completion of his hack. The message was sent, warning given, and the Czerka communications grid was down. It was time to start the killing in earnest.

* * *

Anarchy broke out in stages.

In the first stage, communication was severed between Czerka headquarters and all its employees. Holofeeds were interrupted, comlinks disrupted, and automated equipment shut down. Lights went out all over the port and along the constructed walkways. Panic started to claw at the night-shift personnel, some deserting their posts but most clutching their weapons with itchy fingers, ready to shoot into the darkness at the slightest disturbance.

Then the second stage hit; fighting broke out in two different areas. At the hangar, the four small teams of Mandalorians hit the Czerka guards in the dark with the force of a speeding locomotive. A few miles away, in an occupied village, civil war erupted between the Wookiees, a mob pressing their way toward the Hall of the Chieftain against the stiff resistance of the High Guard.

Officers and managers at Czerka headquarters were blind and deaf to chaos coming down around them, but from the fragments they could piece together they knew something terrible was happening. The third stage hit them the hardest.

Kono and company exploded out of Rawn Jorell's office, lightsabres drawn and blasters ready. A small group of guards down the hall opened fire, the red projectiles bouncing off the Jedi's lightsabres and Force shields. Carth and HK-47 returned fire, cutting them down with a deadly burst of shots.

Alarms were blaring, security droids roaming in packs, while a hasty evacuation of the building was reducing order to mayhem. The four Jedi, Carth, and the droids, cut through the pandemonium like a knife. Droids fell in pieces to the floor, scorched limbs were hacked off by lightsabre and sword alike.

Despite the turmoil raging inside the Czerka headquarters, it was still fairly still and quiet out in the forest night. With all communications between Czerka employees and the nerve center disrupted, the battle at the hangar was unnoticed by those not close by. But to those attempting to hold off the Mandalorians' coordinated strike, it was a slice of the Dxun offensives.

Heavily-armed Mandalorians attacking out of the dark, concealed by the foliage, and terrorizing the poorly organized company of Czerka guards defending the hangar with lightning-quick assaults of nearly overwhelming firepower. The men in yellow sleeves were falling to the ground in abundance, either dead or with grievous wounds, and not one of the attackers had yet taken a serious hit. It took the Mandalorians less than twenty minutes to eliminate the guards and move in around the hangar.

* * *

There were perhaps two hundred dead Wookiees at the entrance to the Hall of the Chieftain. The High Guard had died to the last, fighting like demons and taking down twice their number before they fell. But the rebellion had grown too large to be stopped by their resistance. As many as had fallen to the High Guard's blades still lived to tread over the corpses of their fallen comrades and enemies alike. Here and there among the bodies were the yellow-sleeved carcasses of the sparse Czerka guards, horribly mutilated by the vengeful rebels.

The streets were awash with blood. In places it dripped and poured over the sides of the old platforms, falling miles to reach the forest floor. In others it oozed up against the massive Wroshyr trunks and painted long, red streaks down into the murky depths. The odor of death was inescapable.

Zaalbar looked about unhappily, saddened that it had come to this. Having to fight and kill his own people was sickening, but he'd been left no choice. Chuundar's followers were fighting to keep the Wookiees enslaved, and so had made themselves enemies of their own people. If not for Chuundar, none of this would ever have been necessary. Chuundar had to be killed.

As he and his father approached the sacrosanct doors, the ceremonial blade held firmly in Freyyr's hands, Zaalbar steeled himself for the inevitable confrontation. Chuundar would have fortified himself and those remaining of the High Guard inside. The sacred Hall would be turned into a another bloodbath.

So be it, he thought. The rightful Chieftain is returning to take his seat, and let those who oppose him fall under Bacca's blade.

Mission was chattering on the comlink some distance behind him, out of the way, safe--if anywhere could be safe ever again. She was alerting Kono of their progress, and listening to Kono's stern reminder not to destroy the Star Map.

Zaalbar grunted to himself. That was one thing that Chuundar would need not worry about ever again. He would answer for his crimes, and never again look upon his shiny trophy.

Standing at the threshold of the door, Freyyr roared to those inside. "_Chuundar! The time has come! Deliver yourself to be executed or be held responsible for violating the sanctity of the Chieftain's Hall and be shamed for all time! By the blade of Bacca's sword your pretension to rule has come to an end!_"

There was no response from within.

Freyyr stepped aside and nodded to a pair of big Wookiees holding a huge, heavy log. At his signal, they rammed it into the doors.

To everyone's surprise, the doors flew wide open with little encouragement. Just beyond, inside the Chieftain's Hall, was a rank of stern-faced Wookiees armed with bowcasters; the last of the High Guard.

Instantly, Zaalbar dove for Freyyr, knocking him out of the way as the High Guard opened fire. The two Wookiees who had battered the doors open were cut down immediately, the bowcaster bolts tearing them apart in seconds. Outside, the Wookiee rebels dove for cover as the sizzling green bolts scythed over their exposed positions.

Zaalbar saw Mission crouching behind an overturned wagon, digging frantically in her pack for something. He pulled his own bowcaster from his back, slammed in a cartridge, and stood to return fire. Setting his sights on the Wookiee in the middle, he squeezed off two shots. Both bolts hit their mark and he was rewarded by the target's head snapping back in a spray of blood. Instantly, the High Guard directed their fire at his position, and he ducked out of sight, hoping to have bought Mission enough time.

He was gratified when he heard her yell, "Fire in the hole!" and she hurled a grenade through the open doors. Zaalbar only hoped it wasn't a thermal detonator.

There was an intense white flash from inside the building. Silver shards flew from the blast. The enemy's bowcasters fell silent.

Peeking out from behind his cover, Zaalbar looked inside the building. Where the grenade had detonated there was a black scorch mark, but the walls, the floor, and the ceiling were all plastered with a gray substance. The bodies of over a dozen Wookiees were encased in it, stuck to the floor and the walls by the blast and frozen beneath the silver crust of the grenade's payload.

He and Freyyr stepped grimly over the threshold, brandishing their weapons. No one remained in the antechamber who had not been caught in the grenade's enveloping blast of carbonite. Beyond the gray encasement that covered a large part of the floor were the doors that led into the main chamber.

Freyyr opened the center door, into the main hall, the gleaming sword of Bacca held out before him. As the door swung open, a blaster shot rang out, and he roared as the bolt clipped him across the shoulder. In fury, he drove his sword forward at the yellow-sleeved Czerka officer who stood just behind the door. The blade tore open the man's chest cavity, spilling he innards over the wood floor.

Zaalbar elbowed past his father, raised his freshly-loaded bowcaster, and shot at anything that presented itself to him. Four more Czerka officers went down with gaping holes in their stomach or chest and two charging Wookiees had their legs shot out from under them.

His chest was heaving with rage, his heart pounding like a hammer, and his hands like iron on the grip of his weapon. He scanned the vast hall, and to his surprise, found it nearly empty. He supposed Chuundar must have sent most of his bodyguards and devout followers to die in the streets while he cowered within.

Almost disappointed, he reloaded his bowcaster and stalked about the length of the hall, his keen eyes alert for any movement. He felt rather than saw a bowcaster bolt streak by behind him. He snapped about and found the offender instantly, just barely visible behind a column. A single shot screamed from his own weapon and the Wookiee dropped immediately. In the background, he heard his father dispatching another hidden threat.

Chuundar was not here. Zaalbar knew where he was.

He turned and ran for a door into the side chambers, looking for one he knew in particular. He heard Freyyr rush to catch up with him, but he didn't really care; he knew exactly what to do when he got there.

Throwing open a familiar door, Zaalbar was greeted by an unsurprising sight.

The Star Map was active, the glowing sphere that hovered above its tripodal base casting the darkened room with a pale, saturating blue light. Chuundar stood transfixed by it, oblivious to everything around him.

"_Face me, Chuundar!_" Zaalbar yelled. His brother ignored him.

Gritting his teeth, Zaalbar took up aim and fired.

The green bolt hit its mark, ripping through Chuundar's kneecaps and spilling him to the floor. The black-furred Wookiee winced from the pain, but was otherwise sedate. A small smile even crossed his lips.

Livid, Zaalbar seized his brother, throttling him.

"_Look at me! See the face of the one you betrayed!_" he roared.

Chuundar's eyes came into focus for a moment. He regarded his brother. "_You cannot imagine the power, Zaalbar. It promises so much more than those Czerka fools could ever give me. And all it asks in return is my soul. I think it is a fair trade._"

Zaalbar's lip curled in disdain. "_You are a fool, my brother, to listen to the promises of the Dark Side._"

"_The Dark Side? I said nothing of it. It is the Builders who promise thus. It is by their will that I did as I did. The Infinite Empire shall rule all the galaxy once more; the Builders will see to it._"

Zaalbar heard his father enter behind him and come to stand over Chuundar in judgment.

"_I disown you, Chuundar,_" Freyyr said, "_you are no longer my son. You are stripped of all honor and will go to the grave among the cowards and madclaws._"

The blade of Bacca's sword rose in the air, its point held above Chuundar's throat. His eyes seemed to stare off into nothing, paying the sword no mind.

With profound finality, Freyyr drove the sword into his son.

Chuundar's neck exploded in blood. The madness in his eyes was darkened.

It was over.

* * *

It was difficult for Kono to avoid stepping on any of the bodies, they were plastered all over the streets in swathes. Dead Wookiees and dismembered humans and Twi'leks wearing the yellow sleeves of Czerka Corporation lay in vast blood pools that stained the walkways.

It seemed they were a bit late. The Wookiee rebels had done much, the sheer volume of corpses was appalling.

Bastila and Carth, more accustomed to battlefields filled with the black scorch marks of blaster burns and cauterized lightsabre wounds, where the sights and smells were dominated by fire and the burned, were taken aback by the sight of the wash of gore in the streets, the ever-present stench of mortal wounds and copiously-spilled blood.

Juhani and Jolee forced themselves to be impassive, hiding their revulsion behind masks of duty.

The carnage had no effect on Kono. He'd seen every kind of battlefield, massacre, and slaughter there was to see, and learned to distance himself from the horror so he could continue to function with all his faculties. It drove some in the special forces into stress disorders, but he was not among them.

The gore was pervasive, but by far the thickest in the front of the building called the Hall of the Chieftain. The corpses were almost all Wookiees, a great number wearing the bandoliers of the High Guard, the personal protectors of the Chieftain himself. Wookiee rebels stood in closed ranks around the whole perimeter of the sacred hall. Bidden by someone inside, the Wookiees parted ranks to allow Kono and his company through.

Mission and Zaalbar waited for them in the antechamber. The whole room bore silent witness to the explosion of a carbonite grenade. The wood was scraped raw where the silver encrustation had been peeled away from the floor and walls. The young Twi'lek's face had an expression of tired resignation rather than her usual cheery enthusiasm.

First Taris and now this; the girl had seen more death than a fourteen year-old should be expected to endure.

"Is it here?" Kono asked.

Mission nodded. "This way."

It took her little time to lead them into the small chamber where stood the still-active Star Map. Kono could see the bloodstains everywhere, but there was not a body to be seen.

"Was he here?" he asked Zaalbar.

"_This is where he died. Father and I threw his corpse into the Shadowlands, where it belongs._" The Wookiee's face twisted in consternation. "_Kono, he said he was doing the will of the 'Builders'. What could he have meant by that?_"

The Builders. Well, that was hardly surprising.

Reaching out through the Force, Kono could easily feel the tug of the Star Map's power, it was the strongest he had felt yet. The ones on Dantooine and Tatooine had both been almost benign, and the Map on Korriban was soaked with all manner of energies, but this one was different entirely. It was almost as if it had a mind of its own, and a voice that whispered into his mind.

Kono knew instantly what it was. When he saw the tantalizing symbols - symbols he reognized - emblazoned on the base it was confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt. The Star Map was a trap.

He whirled around, facing the others. "Everyone, get out of here, right now." His voice was low and even, but interwoven with deadly urgency. No one argued with the look on his face, the warning in his eyes. In a matter of seconds Kono stood alone with the glowing Map.

When the last door clicked shut, Kono drew the black sword of Ajunta Pall. It hummed with a deep cadence as it left its sheath, like the sound of a lightsabre. Slowly, deliberately, he approached the Star Map, extending the sword forward until the tip touched the triangular base.

In an instant, everything turned black. There was no sensation of movement, no pain or discomfort, just the sudden wrenching away of his surroundings. Kono could feel his body take breaths, hear the thumping of his heart in his chest, but in a detached, observant way. There was no fear, no panic or apprehension, only silent expectation.

A presence wandered close to him in the empty blackness, a familiar presence.

With his mind, Kono blasted a message into the void. "Here I am, Malak!"

Suddenly the presence made itself known. It was Ajunta Pall.

"Leave here!" the spirit hissed.

"I set you free, Ajunta. Why is it you remain?" Kono asked, ignoring the spirit's demand.

"Despite your words, I was never free. Through Korriban's construct I must serve Lord Malak and the Infinite Empire in death, for eternity."

"The Star Map in Naga Sadow's tomb was dormant."

"No, but it was... damaged, and unable to hear the Forge's call."

"But this one can?"

"Yes. Lord Malak has used me to stir up the Wookiees here, prepare them to be conquered when he finally sweeps away the Republic. He knows the secrets of the Map network well, but even he is not able to enter, as he is still in possession of his body. You are not a spirit, but flesh and blood, how can you accomplish such a thing?"

"Your sword knows its master."

"Ah, yes, I should have known. You have mastered that sword faster even than I did; I, it's maker." Ajunta's voice grew urgent once more. "You must leave here. Malak will find you if you remain."

"I will, but I wish to tell you one thing first. One way or another you will have to abandon this Map. Either it is by your choice, or it is because I will destroy it. But leave you will."

The spirit sighed. "Yes, I should have left anyway. There will simply be another to hold me prisoner."

"Ajunta, when I kill Malak, then you will truly be free."

"Thank you for your words, but you still have much to learn of the Forge. Now leave."

Kono's eyes opened. The sword was back in its sheath, the enticing trap in the Force gone from the Star Map.

Reaching to his belt, he unclipped the data module he'd retrieved from the ruins in the Shadowlands. It took only a few moments to find a place on the Star Map itself to plug it in. Icon's vague form replaced the glowing sphere.

"Welcome, master," the AI said.

"Icon, display the location of the Star Forge."

"Affirmative. Advisory: Hyperspace coordinates incomplete due to data corruption."

The fractured set of coordinates appeared in front of him, similar to ones they'd found on the previous three maps. Checking his datapad, he filled in some of gaps in the data, but the set so far was regrettably still useless.

"Icon, new directive: dump Star Map's memory banks into your internal storage."

"Affirmative. Directive complete."

"New directive: erase Star Map memory from the construct."

"Warning, this operation is irreversible. Do you wish me to continue?"

"Proceed with the directive."

"Affirmative. Directive complete. Star Map memory now resides exclusively in my internal storage."

"Deactivate and store."

"Affirmative."

Icon's glowing visage darkened and the three arms of the Star Map folded upward. It was now useless, everything contained in it had been turned over to Icon for safekeeping. The coordinates it contained were still insufficient, but Kono knew they were close now to finding the Star Forge.

He exited the room and faced the ones anxiously waiting. He looked to Zaalbar and Freyyr.

"You should take the Star Map back to the Shadowlands. I don't think it's safe to have it here in your village," Kono urged.

"_By your word, it will be returned to the forest,_" the aged Wookiee replied. "_And it shall never be disturbed again._"

"A wise decision," Bastila remarked.

Juhani nodded her head in agreement. "Yes, I could feel its dark power even from here."

"They are dangerous artifacts. I believe they may also serve as an intergalactic communication network. This one is the strongest I have felt yet. I also believe Darth Malak is in direct control over them through the Star Forge; this may have been what drove Chuundar into madness in the first place. Deactivated and purged, this one may no longer be a threat, but we are going to have to be very careful with any others we find," Kono warned.

They all looked at each other for a moment.

"So," Carth started, "I guess we're done here."

Mission smiled and bobbed her head, her signature exuberance returned. "You're right, Carth. We'd better find Canderous. He and the other Mandalorians are probably getting bored from a lack of action by now."


	6. Epilogue

The ship was quiet, the hyperspace generator humming softly as it propelled them across the galaxy at several times the speed of light. The garage was empty around him as Kono set his things down on the workbench. For the first time in days he let himself relax, considering the objects before him.

The sword of Ajunta Pall, in all its black glory, sat end-to-end over the workbench like a long, thin window into the void. Bandon's exotic lightsabre hilt lay just below it, its emitter casing already partially disassembled.

It was time he built another.

Kono brooded while he picked up a plasma torch and began making an eight-inch long incision along the edge of the sword.

In spite of its difficulties, the mission to Kashyyyk had been successful. The Star Map recovered, an ancient AI discovered, allies gained... There had been a price for each, but all had been worth paying. The Mandalorians especially, if used well, could prove to be of further value yet. Considering what still lay ahead, Kono would have no trouble finding more use for their skills.

He appraised the cut section of the sword with satisfaction and set it aside, turning his attention to the partially disassembled lightsabre. With a fine touch, he clicked open the focusing chamber, pulled out the red crystal, and dropped it into a metal dish at the end of the table. From a leather pouch on his belt he produced a violet crystal and snapped it into the chamber.

There had been an unexpected bonus; Bastila seemed to be coming around. The job of bringing her to his way of thinking was turning out to be much less trouble than he thought, which surprised him. She been almost hostile to him after Korriban, which he supposed was not entirely detrimental to his goals, but the ordeal in the Shadowlands had wrought an abrupt reversal in her. It could have been any number of things; nearly dying by the curse of Ajunta Pall's sword, going to extreme measures to save his life, or her perceived fall to the dark side in Icon's ruins. Whatever the cause, she was now, like Juhani, more awake and aware to the true power of the Force.

Kono discarded the cold, metal-edged grip on the lightsabre. Carefully, he unwrapped the tooled leather from the sword's hilt. Before binding the leather to the bare cylinder, he affixed the cut edge from the black sword to the lightsabre hilt with the aid of an arc torch. He passed his hand over the fresh weld and bonded the two metals with the Force, fusing them more thoroughly than any tool could. When the weld cooled, he wrapped the leather over the melded pieces, creating the new grip.

With the overthrow of Chuundar, Kono had expected Zaalbar might want to stay with Freyyr and his people, he was surprised when the Wookiee insisted on continuing with him. He had considered asking him and Mission to remain on Kashyyyk regardless; the roads ahead would not be nearly so forgiving. However, as long as they wished to follow him, he would abide by their decisions. Kono only hoped they would have the fortitude to follow their own choices when presented with the reality of the things they had yet to face. Jolee was also a point of concern for Kono; the old man had proven to be an asset, but how long before he became a liability was anyone's guess.

Taking the plasma torch again, Kono sliced another piece from the blade of the sword, this one shorter and more curved than the first.

Carth could become a problem. He was taking the change in Juhani and Bastila's behavior as if they were being tainted, corrupted. Suspicious and paranoid from the beginning, he'd only grown more distrustful as the mission dragged on, if that were even possible. Any change in the status quo he viewed as having dire meaning. Sooner or later, he would have to be dealt with.

Not trusting the clumsy tools, Kono used the Force to separate an inch-long splinter of the swords black metal. With steady hands, he gently inserted it into the exposed emitter matrix and replaced the cover over it, locking it in place. Only the faintest tip of it showed through the emitter cap. He then welded the smaller crescent to the emitter, in line with the blade at the bottom of the weapon, making it into a hand guard of sorts.

Before even the last weld had finished cooling, he picked the lightsabre off the workbench and thumbed the activation button. A violet blade pierced by a thin sliver of pure black erupted from the modified emitter, humming satisfactorily. He swung it experimentally a few times and deactivated it.

He was pleased with the new weapon.

Kono heard Bastila approach from behind him. He could sense that she was in a questioning mood. All the better.

"Yes, Bastila?"

"Kono, I've been meaning to talk to you lately."

"We have the time, Manaan is several days away."

"Yes, indeed. I'm actually quite worried. About you, and I guess me as well."

"Why?"

"You have an effect on those around you, a very powerful one. You must have noticed by now. Mission and Zaalbar were eager to join you after having only known you for a few hours, you won over the Mandalorian, Canderous quite quickly, and Juhani returned to the Jedi Order for you. But your influence didn't stop there. You've now led a small war to overthrow Czerka Corporation and Zaalbar's brother Chuundar. Aside from Carth and myself, practically none of the others even voiced an objection. I admit, even I am tempted to think it was the right thing to do."

"It was the only thing to do, and you know it. There is often no 'right' choice."

"Yes, but my point is you must be careful with all your actions, because everyone around you feels them, is affected by them. While you've demonstrated a commendable unwillingness to fight unnecessary battles, the fervor with which you fight those you do deem necessary is more than a bit unsettling. And I don't mean only in physical combat. You direct the same energies, the same intensity, to everything you do. Juhani has adopted this trait as well. This technique falls dangerously close to passion, which we must avoid."

"You've felt it haven't you? The serenity of the chaos?"

"Well, I--"

"Bastila, that has nothing to do with your illusion of the dark side. It is, in fact, your own battle meditation."

"What?"

"Did you not wonder, before we reached Korriban when you were suddenly unable to meditate properly, why a simple sparring could restore that ability? You have never felt it before because the Jedi Masters urged the development of your other skills; you never knew it was there. Through our bond, the true form of battle meditation revealed itself to me and I embraced it. I suppose it would be more accurately described as the meditation of battle. It is the perfect compliment to your traditional battle meditation, the combination of both would make one virtually invincible."

"But how could such power exist outside of the dark side?"

"Because there is no dark side. Any person can turn to evil, and many do, Force users included. Just because power can be used for evil does not mean it is evil in and of itself. A blaster may be used to murder or to protect; the blaster is neutral. It is the person that defines the intent."

"But the dark side--"

"Bastila, just forget about the dark side for a moment. Battle meditation aside, there are always reasons for the things I do. To make it in the special forces, you can't give a challenge any less than your full commitment. That means throwing everything you have at a problem, including anger, fear, and hatred. These are part of us, part of what gives us strength to endure. Denying such emotions is foolhardy."

"You are very convincing. I can understand why Juhani is so swayed by you. The two of you were brought to training too old to truly understand the need to be emotionless."

"Have you ever considered that perhaps the answer is not to eradicate emotion, but to learn how to control it? Unchecked passions can be destructive, but when directed at a problem they bring a focus and a drive like no other. We don't need to be emotionless, but we do need to be able to make the right choices with our passions, and let reason guide those actions."

"This is truly what you believe?"

"Yes it is."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can see your point of view. It is, after all, control which is the most important. Power is nothing without control. Perhaps even what we've considered 'dark' powers could be used for good. The truth is, I've been uncertain of many things almost since the beginning on Taris. You are a very dangerous man. If the Masters knew what I knew about you they would probably kill you. But maybe we have been wrong all these years, these centuries. You inspire those around you, give them strength and confidence. Carth has grown withdrawn and evasive because he resents influence, fears to fall into blind loyalty. For a long time I thought I should be repulsed by the ease with which you draw others into your battles, but I find that is no longer the case. I'm afraid that I've come to rely on you, and I'm grateful that you are here."

"I'm glad you have chosen not to deny this part of yourself, Bastila."

"Could you teach me, Kono? Teach me how you do the things you do? About passion?"

"It would be an honor."

* * *

"Hello again, Icon."

_Welcome back, Master._

"Icon, I've integrated you into the hard systems now. Do you have control?"

_Affirmative. I am remaining covert until activation via override as per your command._

"Good. Retrieve data on the Builders, the Star Forge, and the Infinite Empire."

_Affirmative. Shall I include relevant associated data on the Destroyers as well?_

"Yes."

_Retrieving data..._


End file.
